Past the Point of Rescue
by Natchez
Summary: Brenda makes a decision about her life. But what about Andy? Brenda/Flynn. Genre listed as "angst" for a reason. Okay, you talked me into it. The story continues!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** For all you Brenda/Flynn fans. You know who you are! This may not exactly have the outcome you were looking for, but I personally think it's very much in keeping with their characters. Enjoy- and PLEASE R&R! I do appreciate it!

Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer."

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><p><strong>Past the Point of Rescue<strong>

"You'd better decide what you want, Brenda." Fritz's words rang in her ears, and at no time were they louder than they were tonight, when he was across the country in D.C., and she was alone in the house. It was Friday night, she had a big glass of Merlot (not her first that evening) and her satellite radio was playing. A song she hadn't heard in a while came on. It was "Past the Point of Rescue" by Hal Ketchum. She had always loved that song, but tonight, it was tearing her apart. "Do you know how much I love you? No, you don't. But I do." Oh God, it was her. There she was.

Brenda, with sudden, crystal clarity, knew what she wanted, or rather, who. Ever since that creep attacked Lieutenant Andy Flynn, she had come to realize she cared very much for him, but thought it was natural. It was the same way she felt about David Gabriel. Or Julio Sanchez. Only it wasn't. She was supposed to love her husband, but it had been a long time since Fritz had sparked the kind of fire inside her blood that she got just watching Andy walk into the murder room. She had firmly told herself this was just infatuation, but it wasn't, and now she knew it wasn't.

Just last night, she and Andy had found themselves at the same cafe after work. It hadn't been intentional, but he insisted she sit with him and he walked her out to her car. He had said good night, given her a shoulder hug and left. He had been the perfect gentleman. But she could still feel his arm around her shoulders. She could smell his cologne. It was fresh and clean and like grass, or citrus. Brenda was on the sofa and put her head in her hands. Oh God, what was she going to do? Yes, she loved Fritz, and as far as she knew, he had always been completely faithful to her. And she had been faithful, too. Tonight, her body was faithful, but her mind was distinctly adulterous.

Brenda wanted Andy with a longing she didn't even fully understand. She might not even be able to put into words exactly what she wanted from him. But she knew it involved getting naked and staying in bed well into the morning. She should not want him. She should never have fantasized about him. But there was that dream she had about Andy. Oh, she had been downright embarrassed at the time, but thinking about it now made her skin flushed – and not with embarrassment. She wanted to kiss him and touch him. Brenda thought about the scar from his knife wound. She wanted to kiss that scar and be thankful he hadn't died. She wanted to kiss every square inch of his olive skin and touch his hair and feel the strength of a man who had fought off an attacker after being stabbed. The few times she had touched Andy's hands, she had felt that strength, yes, but there was tenderness in those hands, too. She had seen it when he had been to the house and had scratched Joel's ears and rubbed him under the chin. She had no doubt those hands could set a woman on fire. Just looking at them set her on fire. She wanted his hands on her body.

And she could talk to Andy about anything. He never seemed shocked when she came up with some odd idea in the murder room. He might have told her she was a little crazy, but he said it affectionately, not rather derisively, as Fritz did. Andy didn't shock easily to start with. He might look at her, dark eyes twinkling, with that little grin, but shock? Rarely. Brenda felt Andy understood her on a basic level. She wasn't sure she completely understood him, but he fascinated her beyond reason. As much as he wore his emotions on his sleeve, there was so much about him she didn't know. But he knew everything about her. And he almost always knew exactly what she was thinking. It was a little spooky.

Brenda drained her glass and set it on the table with a thump. She turned off the radio. Might as well try to get some sleep. Maybe all this was just the result of too much wine – but Brenda didn't think so. She wondered if she was drinking to dull her feelings for Andy. But she still had to sleep. She turned the lights out, scooped Joel up in her arms and went to bed.

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><p>Something woke her. It sounded like a thump. She could still feel Joel on the bed at her feet, so it hadn't been him jumping off the bed. She slept with her bedroom door closed and locked when Fritz was away, so she had some security. She sat up in bed and listened. She heard the noise again. Oh God. Someone was in her house! And her weapon was in her car. She grabbed her cell phone and Joel and went to the bathroom and locked that door. First, who to call? Andy, of course. He was a night owl, Brenda told herself, and might still be up, or have just gone to bed. Provenza and Gabriel both went to bed with the chickens, she knew. And Mike Tao had kids. Julio wasn't home. But Andy might be awake.<p>

She dialed his number, her heart pounding. He answered on the second ring. "Hey Chief. What's going on?"

"Andy, there's somebody in my house! Joel and I are locked in the master bathroom, but I can hear all these thumps and bumps!"

"Calm down, Chief. I'll get there as quick as I can, but call 911. The uniforms can get there faster than I can, all right?"

"O.K. But please, please hurry!"

"I'm on my way, Chief. You call 911 and stay where you are. Don't look out or anything. Just call 911."

"O.K., Andy." Brenda dialed the emergency number. One thing about being a deputy police chief: your calls got number one priority. She waited for what seemed like an eternity, there in the bathroom, the light off, trying to stay calm, but nearly fainting when she heard her bedroom doorknob start rattling. She didn't know who was out there, or how many of them there were, or what exactly they wanted. All those unknowns terrified her. She could hear voices, but couldn't distinguish what they were saying. She heard what sounded like a drill or other electric tool. What in God's name were they doing? The whirring noise continued and stopped. In horror, she heard the unmistakable soft thud as the doorknob dropped to the floor. The thieves had used an electric screwdriver to remove the screws from the doorknob and took it apart. The door opened.

Brenda could hear what sounded like two men. She thought frantically of what she could use as a weapon if they got the bathroom door open and felt for the doorknob. To her intense relief, the screws were on the inside of the door. That would slow them down considerably — maybe long enough for the uniforms to get here. She could hear them prowling around in her bedroom and thanked God she kept most of her valuables in the safe which was, ironically enough, right here in the bathroom under the vanity.

The bathroom doorknob rattled then, and Brenda put her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. Fritz _would _pick this week to be gone, she thought furiously, irrationally. She heard them talking about what to do.

"Somebody's gotta be in there," one voice said. "You want to try to take down the door?"

"Yeah. Doors don't get locked by themselves," the other voice replied.

A shoulder (she supposed) slammed into the door and she flinched, but didn't make a sound. The only weapon she had at her disposal was a pair of heavy scissors she had used to open a package with a razor in it. She grasped the shears tightly, ready to stab whoever breached the door. The shoulder hit the door again. Where were those uniforms? Again, it hit. She could hear the door crack a bit.

Then, suddenly, the most wonderful words in the world, "LAPD! Freeze! Hands up where we can see them!" Curses filled the air and she could hear the sounds of a scuffle.

"Chief Johnson, you all right?" came the voice of an officer. She unlocked the bathroom door and peeked out. "I'm fine, officer. Thank you so much for getting here so quickly." She came out of the bathroom, glad to be in sensible pajamas. "It was a little scary there for a couple of minutes, though."

The officer nodded. He had heard about this woman, as had everyone in the department, but had never seen her. She was petite and blonde, with a pointed chin and, well, she was hot. He really wasn't expecting that. "I'm glad you're all right, ma'am," he said. "What happened?"

"I had gone to bed and something, a sound, woke me up. I sat up and listened for it, and could hear movement. So I grabbed my cell phone and locked myself in the bathroom. My bedroom door was already locked. I keep it like that when my husband is away."

"O.K., Chief," the officer said. He led her to where the suspects were cuffed. "Do you recognize either of these men?" he asked.

Brenda looked at them. Men? They were hardly out of their teens, if that! "No, officer, I don't." she said, when she heard noises in the hall.

"Where's the Chief? I'm Lieutenant Flynn from her squad!" came Andy's voice, angry. He was in the room a moment later. "You O.K., Chief?" he said.

"Yes, Lieutenant. I'm fine," Brenda answered. She was so glad to see Andy. He was there, big and solid and real, and ready to defend her.

He went to the suspects and grabbed one. "Who are these little punks, anyway?" he growled.

"No ID on them yet, Lieutenant," one of the officers answered.

Andy dragged the offender into the hall and shoved him against the wall. "Name, punk. And don't make me ask twice. I ain't in the mood."

The suspect Andy collared was the younger of the two. He wasn't even 18 yet. He thought he wasn't scared of a bunch of stupid cops – until he looked into the lieutenant's cold, black eyes. He had the feeling this guy could, and would, break him in half for no reason at all. "J-james Cole," he stammered.

"All right, Mr. Cole," Andy said, "Who's your friend?"

"Don't tell him!" the other kid yelled.

Andy increased the twist on the kid's collar. "You gonna listen to that waste of space in there?" Andy said, bringing his nose within an inch of the kid's, "Or to me? I know what I'd recommend."

"H-his name is Nat. Nat Turner."

"Fine. How old are you and how old is your friend?"

"I'm 16. Nat's 19."

Andy's face broke into a wicked grin. He loosened his hold on the kid. "That's good. You just bought yourself a ticket to juvie, which is a hell of a lot better than where Mr. Turner's headed." He shoved Cole to one of the uniformed officers. "See you guys tomorrow, sometime."

The officers led the suspects out of the house, with Turner screaming obscenities the whole way. They cleared the scene, with Andy's approval, and left. Andy watched them drive away and went back into the house.

Brenda was standing in the den, chewing her lower lip, looking lost. "Thank you," she said softly.

"You're welcome, Chief," he answered. Andy looked at Brenda. "Are you really all right?" he said, moving to stand in front of her.

"Just shook up. Joel and I stayed in the bathroom until you all came in."

"Smart move." But something about Brenda wasn't right. Something was going on with her. "What's up, Chief? You don't act like you're all right."

Brenda lifted her face to him in what was a plea for a kiss if he had ever seen one. What was with this woman? Had the fright scrambled her brains or something?

Andy was close to her. She could feel his warmth. Brenda would give her soul right now to have him take her in his arms and kiss her until she couldn't breathe. Lightly, hesitantly, Brenda touched his forearm and looked up into those beautiful chocolate eyes. How appropriate it was that his eyes reminded her of her favorite vice. "I'm fine, Andy. I'm just fine, now that you're here." Her voice was sweet, seductive.

Not many things could make Andy Flynn's jaw drop, but this did. His chief, his _married_ superior officer, was hitting on him! Brenda slid her hand farther up his arm, under the sleeve of his T-shirt. He could feel the goosebumps raise up as she did. "Chief, I think you got pretty scared back there. I don't blame you. So you're not exactly thinking straight. O.K.?"

Brenda saw the answering fire flash in Andy's eyes, so she knew he was just trying to do the right thing, the gentlemanly thing. Bless his heart. "Not a thing's wrong with my thought process," she answered. She took the half step that closed the distance between them. Her hand on his arm migrated down, and then back up his chest to the neck of his shirt. She traced his collarbone with her thumb, and then up to the nape of his neck, where she lightly squeezed, feeling the tension there. She was nearly dizzy with the contact.

Andy knew he needed to move her hand, step away and say goodnight, but he was frozen in place. Brenda took his opposite hand and placed it on her shoulder and slipped her arm around his waist. "Right now, I'm not the chief. I'm Brenda. And right now, I'm thinking just fine. I'm just past caring. And right now, the only thing I want is for you to kiss me, and I'm willing to beg for it."

"Chief, you're a married woman," Andy croaked. "I don't do that." He wanted to kiss her. Oh, did he ever want. But he couldn't.

"Tonight, I needed someone, but my _husband_ wasn't here for me. You were, and then it dawned on me, Andy. You always are there when I need someone. When everyone else in my life can't, or won't help me, there you are. I need you right now, Andy Flynn. _Right_ now. Don't say no to me. Please, just kiss me and we'll work out the rest later."

"Chief, this is not a good idea," Andy answered, hanging on desperately to his control.

Brenda moved her hand that had been on his back, gently scratching the skin, down to his hip and tucked that hand into his back pocket. Andy drew in a sharp breath.

"I said tonight, it's Brenda. I know I haven't ever told you, but hon, what you do for a pair of jeans ought to be illegal. Kiss me, Andy." Her voice had turned hypnotic. "I know you want to. You know you want to. I never told you about the dream I had about you, did I? It was pretty hot. I'm real anxious to find out if the flesh and blood version can hold a candle to the dream version. But I'm betting he can."

Andy's mouth went dry. He had liked Brenda for a long while, and even found himself just a tad jealous that she had any man in her bed, let alone her husband. She attracted him on many levels. One of them was the hunch he had that in bed, with the right man, that tight control would completely dissolve and then… And here she was, offering him the golden opportunity to find that out.

Andy's eyes told Brenda exactly what was going through his mind. So she decided to give him a little more incentive. She slipped both hands underneath his shirt. She found his scar and traced it gently. "I could have lost you, Andy. And I couldn't have dealt with that. I've lost people before. But I couldn't lose you. Now, for the last time, and I am begging this go-round, kiss me. Don't walk out."

Brenda's voice, her hands on his skin, her light fragrance, her body next to his - suddenly, it was just too much. No man could possibly be expected to resist all that. Andy tipped her chin up and softly brushed her lips with his.

When she felt the touch of his mouth on hers, Brenda did, literally, go weak in the knees. So she hung on to Andy for support, bringing his mouth to hers fully, completely. She insisted on kissing him with tongues fully engaged and her hands in his hair. But Andy was equally insistent on kissing her gently, tenderly, with care and his considerable expertise. So he cupped her jaw with one of those big hands and held her where he wanted her.

Brenda didn't quite understand why, but lovemaking with Fritz, while fun and satisfying, had always been something of a duel for dominance. But with Andy, she had a feeling it just wasn't going to work that way, and that was fine with Brenda, she thought. She had always said alpha males annoyed her, but again, with Andy, the alpha male side of him was exactly what she wanted.

He couldn't believe what he was doing. Andy could not get his brain wrapped around the fact that he was kissing Brenda, holding her close and seriously contemplating taking her into that bedroom. But he was, and at this moment, it was what they both wanted. She felt warm and alive against him, and he wanted her naked and writhing in his arms. He brought one hand to the front of her top and started undoing the buttons.

Brenda gasped as she felt Andy's deft fingers dealing with the buttons. He could have pulled the top over her head, but he wasn't going to rush this. He pulled away, and holding up a finger, kicked his sneakers off. Then, he resumed unbuttoning her top. He paused again, but only to lead her to the bedroom, where he pushed her pajama top off her shoulders. He looked at her. "You're beautiful, Brenda."

"Am I?" she said, her voice quavering.

He nodded. "Yeah. You are." He raised his T-shirt and pulled it off in one swift move. The lamp on the side table was on, and Brenda could see Andy's scars. She moved to him and traced again the long one across his stomach and side.

"I was so afraid I'd lose you," she said."

"I'm tough," he answered.

"You surely are, Andy. As an old shoe," Brenda said, with a smile.

That got a wry grin – the one that always made Brenda's heart go into an irregular rhythm. He put his hands on her bare shoulders and she shivered with the contact. "So now what?" Andy said. "It's not too late to be smart, here. Although, I admit, this is enough fodder for my dreams for a year."

"Andy, it's too late for me. I've wanted you for too long to wait a second more than I have to." Brenda's voice was soft, but determined. She pressed herself to him and he closed his eyes at the feel of her breasts on his skin. Then, incredibly, she put her hand to his groin and stroked him through his jeans. "No wonder jeans look so good on you," she whispered. "In high school we'd have said you were packin' heat."

Andy laughed and took Brenda's face in his hands. You never knew what was going to come out of her mouth. He guessed that was part of the attraction. He kissed her and whispered, "Then in the spirit of the locker room, let me say you've got a nice rack."

Brenda giggled. "You always make me laugh, Andy," she said. "But thank you." She reached to undo his jeans and he slipped out of them. Brenda then slid her pajama bottoms off and went to sit on the bed. She patted the space beside her and smiled invitingly.

Andy returned the grin, but said, "Brenda, you know once this happens, there's no going back. Point of no return."

"I don't care. I'm a grown woman, Andy. Please, honey. Come and love me."

And how did he turn down that invitation? He sat down beside Brenda and took her in his arms. He kissed her softly, in spite of his body telling him he needed to move things along. "So give me some ideas here, babe. What do you like?"

"You. Use your imagination. I know it's a good one. As long as it's you, I don't care."

Andy slowly lowered her to the bed. "What changed, Brenda? When?"

"It really changed when I thought about how miserable I'd be if something had happened to you. I couldn't stand the idea." She looked at the man. His weight was on his forearms, not on her. He was looking at her with those eyes that could turn warm or deadly in a split second. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he grinned at her.

"Don't get impatient. We're not going anywhere," he said. He kissed her slowly and tenderly, turning them to their sides so he could comb his hands through her hair and feel it flowing through his fingers. He ran his hand down her side and back, making her smile with the feeling. He kissed her earlobe and neck, then down her jawline and coming back to her mouth. She kept pulling him closer, but he would not be rushed. "You gotta catch a plane or something?" he laughed as he nuzzled her neck.

Flames were licking through Brenda's blood. She felt like she was going to catch fire in real time. "I just want you, Andy," she gasped.

"And you're not used to having to wait for what you want. But tonight, sweetheart, you're waiting for a little while, at least," he said, his thumb grazing her ribcage. "And you're not teasing me into getting ahead of myself. We're both gonna get what we want, so what's your hurry?"

His words, while spoken softly, communicated clearly that he was in charge, for tonight, at least. And Brenda had told him she just wanted him, so she couldn't really complain. And finally, after what felt like an eternity, Andy was touching her breasts, feeling her arousal in her pebble-hard nipples. Brenda thought she might cry with frustration if he didn't touch her more intimately. "Would you relax, woman?" he rasped in her ear. "I know what I'm doing." And that was no lie. Everything Andy did to her spoke of his experience. He knew how to treat a woman. Why couldn't she let him? Why did she have to try to control this? She forced herself to just be, to only feel, to stop thinking about what was going to happen and to focus only on what was happening in that moment.

Andy felt her relax a little and just a bit of smug satisfaction crept into his mind. He wanted to remind her what lovemaking felt like, not just hurried sex for the pleasure of the climax. He had a feeling that's how she had been dealing with it for a long time, maybe since her first marriage fell apart. So it was time she had a man make love to her and in a way that left no doubt in her mind how it was supposed to be.

Brenda had relaxed, for a moment, at least, while Andy concentrated on just touching her skin and kissing her. His mouth was sinful. Brenda could smell the mint on his breath, and hoped her toothpaste masked the taste of all the wine she had been drinking. All the romance novels talked about kisses being intoxicating, but she had always laughed about that – until Andy kissed her. Fritz was a pretty good kisser, way better than Will Pope for sure, but Fritz wasn't even in the ballpark with Andy. Objectively, Brenda knew that had a lot to do with her feelings for Andy, but she always got the impression Fritz was kissing her the way he liked to do it, for his pleasure, and sort of hoped Brenda would come along for the ride. Andy was kissing Brenda to please her, not himself. She had heard a lot of people call Andy Flynn a selfish bastard, but in the bedroom he surely wasn't. He was all about making her feel good. And all she had to do was let him. And his mouth was so hot, but so gentle. He kissed her neck and shoulders and whispered to her how beautiful, how sexy she was.

The few times Andy had seen Brenda in say, a tank top, or a sleeveless dress, he had wicked thoughts about what it would be like to taste her skin. Not that he was alone in the feeling. A lot of the guys in the LAPD had wondered about whether Miss Atlanta was as hot as they thought she might be. But she was still a fighter. She just couldn't completely cede that control. He kissed her in the valley between her breasts and she whimpered a little, and then tried to push him over to a breast. He raised his head. "Brenda Leigh," he said, "You keep on doing that and I'm getting my cuffs out."

The very idea of Andy chaining her hands to the headboard, with his own cuffs, no less, unaccountably flooded her with heat, to the tips of her toes. "Really?" she said. "Promise?"

Andy laughed in spite of himself. "If they wouldn't cut your wrists, yeah, I would. And they would, because there's no way you wouldn't be trying to get out of them." He rolled her over to her back and pinned her down with perhaps half his weight. It was enough. "So would you please let me just make love to you? Let me remind you how good this can be?" He bent his lips to her ear. "You say you trust me, Brenda. Trust me enough to stop being in control. It's not a competition. You don't have to force me to make you feel good. I guarantee I will make you feel so good." He trailed his mouth back down her neck, and kissed the insides of both breasts, before finally taking a nipple into his mouth. As he teased it with tongue and teeth, Brenda had her hands twined in the sheets, gasping. He turned to her other breast and covered it with his mouth.

When he touched her with gentle fingers, she nearly came off the bed. He stroked her softness with that tenderness she knew was in his hands and when he slipped a finger inside her, she was almost sobbing with want.

Andy wondered if the FBI guy realized what he had in his home and in his bed. He wondered if that guy ever spent time on nothing but making his wife feel good. If not, he didn't know what he was missing. Brenda was incredibly responsive, and Andy had known it all along. So he kept up what he was doing. He could see she was going crazy, which was exactly what he wanted her to do. Her body was moist with sweat. But so was his. And he knew what he needed to do, so he guided himself gently into her body.

Brenda obviously knew what having a man inside her felt like, but when she felt Andy pressing his full length into her heat, it was just – different – somehow. It wasn't anything she could put her finger on, but it made her lock her legs around him and bring his mouth to hers. As he started a steady rhythm, she hung on to his shoulders and let him have her body, and whether he knew it or not, her heart. He was telling her what he wanted from her, that he wanted her to lose control, and finally, she did. She raked her fingernails down his back and screamed and shuddered in his arms as she climaxed, throwing Andy over the edge, as well.

Andy gathered Brenda into his arms, "gathering" being the appropriate word, Brenda thought, seeing as how she felt like there were pieces of her scattered all over the bedroom. She was still shuddering and shaking, and she could feel her hair plastered to her forehead with sweat.

"Was it worth the wait?" Andy teased.

Brenda just nodded and smiled. Andy shifted and winced. Brenda's nails weren't very short. She had really scraped his back. But was it worth the pain, he thought, all things considered? He just wasn't going to think about how he had helped her be unfaithful to her husband. He wasn't. He couldn't. For the next few hours, he was just going to live in the moment and enjoy feeling Brenda's body against his.

Brenda was so far past the point of rescue, it wasn't even funny. It was safe to say that no one had ever made her feel like Andy did. She wasn't going to think about Fritz, either. He wouldn't be home for several more days, and she was safe in Andy's arms. That's all that mattered.

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><p>Brenda woke up in a happy, golden haze. She couldn't believe she had stayed so long where she wasn't happy. She cared about Fritz, but there was no question it was over between them. She just wished she had admitted her feelings about Andy before she and Fritz ever got married. But she had now, and it was all going to work out. She turned over. Andy was awake, sitting up and checking his e-mail on his phone.<p>

"Good morning, hon," she purred.

He looked over at her and gave her a half-smile. "Good morning."

"So what do you want to do today?" she asked.

Andy put his phone down and took off his reading glasses. "We've gotta talk, Brenda."

"About what?" No, surely he wasn't going to bring up this after their first night together!

"You know what. You're my _married_ boss."

Brenda waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, that. Well, the boss part is no big deal."

"The married part sure is, though."

"You worry too much."

Andy rolled his eyes. He put his hands on Brenda's shoulders. "Brenda, you _cannot_ ignore this. _I _can't ignore this. Until you and the FBI guy are officially split up, if that happens, this," he pointed at the bed, "can't happen again. Period."

"Oh, what are you so upset about? It's not like Fritz and I have exactly been settin' the woods on fire lately where sex is concerned."

Andy closed his eyes and shook his head. "You're acting like you're 15 and just got rid of a pesky boyfriend. One thing that keeps me sober is being honest with people, and with myself, and acting in accordance with some moral standards. Adultery is not in those standards, Brenda. You said last night you're a grown woman. Act like it."

Brenda actually stuck out her lower lip like a child. "I thought you cared about me, Andy."

"I do, Brenda. More than you know. But my sobriety comes first. And I can't stay sober and have an affair with you. If you want to cheat on your husband, that's your business. But I can't make it my business. I won't."

"So what do we do? Act like this never happened?" Those principles Brenda admired in Andy were suddenly damned inconvenient.

"At work, yeah, obviously. But you need to do some thinking about who and what you really want."

"I want you, Andy."

"You say that now, but I read something in Dear Abby once about getting in a relationship like this, and about how what you is get someone you knew was willing to be unfaithful." Andy's tone was low, but brooked no argument.

"I'd never cheat on you!" Brenda exclaimed.

"Did you tell your husband the same thing?"

"I oughta slap your face for that!"

"Go ahead. It wouldn't be the first time a woman slapped me. I'm not trying to be an ass. I'm just trying to get you to look at yourself. You need to figure out what you want." He stood up and started getting dressed.

"Don't leave me, Andy! I know what I want! You!"

He didn't reply until he had finished dressing. He sat down next to her. "Brenda, we'll talk about this again when, and only when, you've made a decision, for good, about your marriage." He paused a moment. "And gotten some counseling about your drinking. You drink a lot, Brenda. I can tell and I can pretty well guess how much. And before you say a word, wine counts. You don't have to be a bourbon drinker like me to have a problem."

Brenda's eyes filled with tears. "Andy, please, please don't leave me." It was heart rending, but Andy stood firm. He had to.

"I really do care about you, Brenda. I care enough to do what I know is right for both of us. And I'm sorry for this. I should never have done it. I did something wrong and I helped you do something wrong and I'm sorry."

"I wanted it."

"So did I, but I knew better."

Brenda looked into Andy's beautiful eyes. They were soft and kind, but there was steel behind them. How did he always know what she was thinking? Being part Irish herself, she wondered if he had what the old folks called "the sight."

"All right, go then." Now she was pissed at him. That was fine with Andy. He knew how to deal with Brenda when she was pissed at him. Still, he took her chin and kissed her tenderly.

"We will talk about this, I promise. But only when you've made some decisions." He kissed her forehead and walked out of the room.

Brenda heard his car start and pull out of the driveway. That was when she cried.


	2. Chapter 2: Pushing Buttons

**A/N:** O.K., people. You (and the writing muse) talked me into continuing the story. I'm warning you, though: there are going to be some twists and turns in it! Please, as always, R&R!

Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer."

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><p><strong>Pushing Buttons<strong>

Provenza knew something was up – he just didn't know what. Flynn was downright surly and the Chief was jumpy as a cat. Of course, everyone knew about the break-in at the Chief's house Friday night, but they caught the guys. That could certainly make someone a little nervous, though, Provenza thought. But she must have really chewed Flynn out for something for him to be so ill at the world. But Provenza heard Flynn was the one she called. Well, that made sense. Everybody knew Flynn never went to bed before 1 a.m., while Provenza was lucky to make it to nine o'clock. But something was going on.

Andy was at his computer, and Provenza said, "Hey Flynn. Want some lunch?"

The lieutenant looked over at Provenza with a disgusted expression. "Sure. What the hell. Why not?"

"And how gracious you are this afternoon!" Provenza cracked.

"Shut up. Let's go."

Provenza said, "Hey Gabriel, tell the Chief we're at lunch if she starts lookin'."

"Will do, Lieutenant," he answered. Provenza noticed as they walked out of the room, that the Chief looked up and stared at them all the way out the door.

As they got in Provenza's car, he said, "O.K. Andy. Tell me what the hell is going on with you today."

"Don't want to talk about it."

"C'mon, Flynn," Provenza wheedled, "you can tell me. Did the Chief chew you out about something?"

"No."

"Is she pissed at you about something?"

"Probably."

"What have you done?"

Flynn turned an impatient gaze on his partner. "I told you I don't want to talk about it. What part of that don't you get?"

"I get it! But you're so damn touchy, I thought talking might help."

"It won't." Nothing would help, Andy thought, except for getting Brenda out of his system, and that wasn't going to happen overnight. But he had to do it. He wondered if transferring back to the Hollywood Division would help. At least he wouldn't have to see her every day.

Provenza shrugged. "Have it your way. But if you're not going to get it off your chest, then get the chip off your shoulder, how about it?"

Andy nodded. They drove for a few minutes in silence when the burden became too much for him. They were stopped at a red light and Andy said, "I slept with the Chief on Friday night."

Provenza wasn't paying much attention at first, then Andy's words hit him. "You did WHAT? Oh, hell, I've got to pull over." Provenza made it to the curb and parked the car. He turned to Andy, who had the look of a condemned man. "Now run that by me one more time. You slept with the Chief? Is that what you said?"

"Yeah. That's what I said," Andy quietly answered.

"Our Chief. Our _married_ Miss Atlanta. That chief?"

"That's the one."

"How in the hell did _that_ happen?"

Andy sighed. "I was at her house Friday night, after the break-in. Everybody left and she was acting weird. So I asked her if she was O.K. That's when she started hitting on me. I swear to God, I did not touch her!"

Provenza stared open-mouthed at his partner. "Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson started hitting on you. I mean, no mistake. You didn't just _think_ she was hitting on you."

"No. No mistake. I guarantee you there's no mistake. I said no. I swear, I told her no. Three times, I told her no. Then I broke. It was stupid. I know it was stupid. And I told her it couldn't happen again. So now she's pissed at me."

"Back up, man. You 'broke'? Explain that one to me. I'd love to hear it."

Andy rolled his eyes. "O.K. She got as close to me as she could, ran her hands up my chest and then under my shirt! She had her hands all over my ass, for cryin' out loud!"

Provenza went a little pop-eyed at that. "Damn," he said. He wondered if he could have held out against that assault. He didn't think he had that much fortitude.

"See? 'Broke.' Get it?"

"I do now. So where do you go from here?"

"Nowhere. That's where. Not until she makes a decision about the FBI guy. That's what I told her. I'm not havin' an affair. Will not do it."

"Can't blame you there." He raised his eyebrows. "I guess I'd be a little touchy too, if I'd had the weekend you did. So I mean, did you have a thing for the Chief before this happened?"

Andy shrugged. "I didn't think any more than any other guy in the department. I mean, who hasn't done their share of wondering? She's hot."

Provenza conceded the point with a nod. "Yeah, but c'mon Flynn…"

"I think I've felt really protective of her for a while, and the FBI guy gets on my nerves in a major way, but I honestly never thought it was more than that. For real."

"I have to say, it does seem like she's been a lot nicer to you since you were attacked."

"That's when she said she realized she had feelings for me," Andy answered.

"She admitted to having feelings for you? Mother Mary," Provenza said.

"Tell me about it."

"I have to ask," Provenza said, a gleam in his eye, "I have to ask: was it good?"

Andy actually laughed at that. Leave it to Louis Provenza. He nodded, eyes closed. "Yeah. Real good. So good. Too good."

Provenza sighed. "Gotta hand it to you, man. I'd like to have been in your shoes Friday night."

"I wish you had been. Then I wouldn't be dealing with this. It doesn't go away, Provenza."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. So what are you gonna do?"

"Stay out of her way as much as I can. Hope we don't catch a case until we've both had a chance to get some distance from this. At least her husband is out of town."

"Small favors."

Andy leaned his head back on the seat. "I know it. How do I get myself into this kind of crap? I was being a good guy, trying to help out my Chief! I was there for the right reasons! She called _me_!"

Provenza nodded slowly. "And any of us would have done exactly the same thing. No, Flynn. You did right by going over there. No question. And you didn't start this. She did."

"I should have stepped back, said good night and gotten the hell out of there."

"That's where you screwed up. But I can't say I'd have left, either."

"It's an impossible situation," Andy said.

"It ain't a good one, that's for sure. But hopefully, it'll all shake out one way or another."

"Yeah. I just hope I keep my badge at the end of it."

* * *

><p>Brenda watched Andy and Provenza walk out the door. She rummaged in her desk drawer for some chocolate, then slammed it shut. Even chocolate didn't help this incredible ache inside her. Andy had on his black suit today, with an ice-blue shirt and a black tie. Most men in the department didn't dress nearly as well. Gabriel, maybe. David always looked put together. But that suit jacket across Andy's broad shoulders was so sexy. And knowing what was under that suit and shirt and tie was even better.<p>

Brenda leaned back in her chair, thinking about Andy's body. She really didn't have a clue he would have quite so much hair on his chest. Not that it bothered her. Gave her something else to touch. In fact, most of Andy's body was a collection of hidden attributes. His arms didn't look really muscled – until they were around her and she could feel the hardness underneath the skin. She wouldn't have said he weighed quite as much, until she found his body on top of hers. And she would have sworn he was as hard and cynical in bed as out of it, until he whispered sweetly to her and guaranteed he would make her feel good. And he had lived up to his word, no doubt.

She twirled a lock of hair absently around her finger. Andy's hair was soft and thick. She had discovered she liked stroking the nape of his neck, just below his hairline. She tried imagining what Andy must have looked liked before his hair went to salt and pepper, but couldn't quite see it. Why had it taken her so long to notice what was right under her nose all this time? She wondered if Andy would have come to her if she hadn't married Fritz. She kind of thought he would have – or she could have convinced him to, at any rate. She convinced him Friday night, sure enough.

Well, if he was going to make it hell on her, she was going to make it hell on him. A trip to the cosmetics counter and lingerie department at Nordstrom's on Saturday afternoon had proved fruitful. She now had lipstick in the most killer shade of red. She applied it carefully and the matching gloss. She thought how useful suit jackets were over dresses – especially low-cut ones, worn with a demi-cup shelf bra. He had been mostly ignoring her all day, but she was going to bring out the heavy artillery now. When she saw her two lieutenants return from lunch, she slipped on the mile-high heels that always made her feel unsteady, but she also knew they made her legs look impossibly long. Men were visual creatures, so she was going to give Andy plenty to see. She refreshed her cologne and, armed to the teeth, carried a sheaf of folders to Andy's desk.

"Lieutenant Flynn, would you please take these to FID? That _woman_ wanted them earlier and I didn't feel like looking at her today." Brenda had unbuttoned the top two buttons of her jacket. It wasn't obvious until she bent over. She bent over to give him the folders, giving him a look right down the front of her dress. She gloated inwardly at his pained expression.

"Sure, Chief," he said, his voice even. He got out of his chair, picked up the folders and left. He was actually glad to be out of there, even if he did have to deal with Sharon Raydor. He got in the elevator. He didn't think Brenda would be quite so devious with him. Not at the office, anyway. He knew for a fact she wasn't wearing those shoes — or that lipstick — earlier. That was for his benefit, as was the look down the neck of her dress. She was deliberately being as seductive as possible, just to drive him nuts. Trouble was, it was working. He briefly entertained the thought of putting Brenda on her back right there on his desk. He chuckled at the shocked look Gabriel would have on his face. It would almost be worth it. Almost. Not worth his stripes or his badge, but almost worth it to see the look on David's face. He'd have a screaming fit. The lingering amusement from the thought kept a smile on his face as he knocked on Raydor's door.

"Come in," he heard.

"Afternoon, Captain. Chief said you needed these files," Andy said, placing them on her desk.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. I needed them this morning, but better late than never, I suppose." Sharon Raydor gave Andy the "annoyed" expression.

He shrugged and gave Sharon the look that suggested he was undressing her with his eyes. He knew it pissed her off when he did it, and it had the desired effect.

"Is there a problem, Lieutenant?" she snapped.

Andy gave her that cocky grin. "No problem at all, Captain. You have a good afternoon, all right?" He winked at her and was gone.

Holy Mother of God. Did Andy Flynn have to do that every time he saw her? It always took her 30 minutes to calm down after he'd been to her office. She didn't want to date Andy. He would drive her up the wall. No, her interest in Andy Flynn was what it had always been: purely carnal. She just wanted to tear his clothes off. She despised herself for it, but there it was. There might be a spark of a relationship between her and Will Pope, but with Andy, she just wanted to lock herself into a hotel room with him for about three days. Sharon had heard Brenda called Andy to her house during the break-in, and knowing Fritz was out of town, wondered what, if anything, had happened. Wouldn't it be just like Brenda to take something else she wanted?

* * *

><p>Brenda had closed the blinds in her office. When Andy came back, she motioned him into her office and closed the door. He sighed heavily as she sat down.<p>

"Yeah, Chief, what is it?"

"Well, right now, it's Brenda, and you've been avoiding me all day."

"For obvious reasons, I thought."

"Maybe so. Doesn't mean I appreciate you treating me like a leper, though."

Andy shook his head. "I can't get close to you here, Brenda. Or anywhere. I told you how I feel."

"Yes you did, Andy." She stood and motioned him into the room behind her office. Probably meant to be a file room, it had a single window to the outside, above eye level, and she closed the door. They could not be heard here. "And I told you. I still feel the same as I did Friday night."

"I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I should have left with the uniforms."

"I'm glad you didn't. I'd have missed the most wonderful night of my life."

"You're exaggerating," he said.

"No, I'm not. I can still feel how you touched me, Andy. Where in the world did you learn to touch a woman like you do?"

A half shrug. "I like women," he said.

"I guess so." Her face turned mischievous. "Would you really tie me to the bed, Andy?"

"Not going there." She took a step toward him. He backed up. "Stop it, Brenda."

"I just want to know. Would you? Really?"

"I ought to spank you is what I ought to do."

That got an even bigger grin. "If you did, Andy, I'd promise to be extra good."

Oh, God. That caused all the blood in his body to rush down to another portion of his anatomy. He took a deep breath and exhaled. "Brenda, stop this. I mean it. If you care anything about me, like you said, stop it."

She put her hands on her hips and pouted. "Why do you have to make everything so difficult? We could be havin' so much fun! Fritz isn't gonna be back until Sunday. He called me this morning. A whole week, Andy. Think about it."

Andy didn't want to think about it. "Thinking" about it made him want to throw his morals in the garbage and do indecent things to his chief. "No way, Brenda. Go eat some chocolate or something. Once in this situation is enough." He had no idea how he found the inner strength to say it, but he did.

Brenda gave him a sexy half-smile. "Andy, I just don't think once would ever be enough with you. I swear, you're a worse addiction than chocolate." Deliberately, she unbuttoned her jacket all the way and shrugged it off her shoulders. The neckline of her dress barely concealed her breasts – particularly not in that bra. "I admit I'm an addict, and I'll do just about anything to get a fix."

By now, Andy's body was screaming at him, but he had to ignore it. "Maybe you're an addict, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna be your enabler," he said. "I've told you. Once you get your relationship in order with your husband, we'll discuss this. But not until. For God's sake, Brenda. Think about someone besides yourself! You said you care about me. Don't you care that you're trying to force me to go against some pretty strongly held principles in my life? Does that matter to you at all?" His eyes were flashing with anger now, and the lust was banked down by that anger.

Oh, she hated it when other people had a point about her behavior. Just _hated_ it. She picked up her jacket, put it back on and buttoned it up all the way. "Yes, it matters, Andy," she said quietly. "It's part of what makes you who you are. But it doesn't stop me from wanting you."

"Same here. But I just can't act on it, yet. I want to stay sober, and I can tell you that you want me sober, too. I'm not a good guy when I'm drunk. So if you want to help me here, then for once in your life, don't insist on doing it your way." Andy took a risk and trailed one finger down Brenda's cheek. "We've been back here long enough. Gabriel's gonna get suspicious. He thinks he's responsible for you, in case you haven't noticed."

Brenda grinned at that. She had always known Andy was just a little jealous of David Gabriel. "I didn't call Gabriel on Friday night. I called _you_."

"Yeah, I know. Get outta here, willya?"

She nodded, straightened her clothes and went out into her main office. Andy followed and went to his desk. David shot him a suspicious look. Provenza raised his eyebrows questioningly and Andy rolled his eyes. He didn't think his day could get any worse, or his life any more complicated, when his desk phone rang.

"Major Crimes, Lieutenant Flynn," he answered.

"Ah, Lieutenant. Glad I caught you." What the hell did Sharon Raydor want now?

"What can I do for you, Captain?" Andy asked.

"Can you come up to my office? There's something I'd like to — discuss — with you."

This could not be good.


	3. Chapter 3: An Indecent Proposal

**A/N:** Now, I told you there would be twists. So don't go all crackerdoodle -yet. Wait and see what happens. {Evil chuckle}. Please R&R!

Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3: An Indecent Proposal<strong>

Andy hung up his phone and looked at Provenza. "Raydor wants to see me," he said.

"What does the wicked witch want now?"

"Hell if I know. Probably to ream me a new one about how she thinks I broke one of her little rules."

Provenza shook his head. "Better go find out. She's even worse when you keep her waiting."

Andy nodded and left the squadroom. He puzzled about what she could possibly want, but couldn't come up with a thing.

"Come in, Lieutenant," Sharon said, opening her door to his knock. She had a gleam in her eye that put Andy instantly on guard. "I asked you here for a couple of reasons. One is to return this file. I don't think Deputy Chief Johnson necessarily wants me to have her personnel files in my office." She handed Andy the folder. "And the second reason is of a more — personal — nature."

Andy's apprehension turned into horror. What if this woman somehow knew what had happened Friday night? Still he kept his face impassive. "What?" he said.

"This past weekend you were on duty rotation, correct?"

"Yeah."

"So you'll take this Friday off."

"Yeah. So?" What was this woman getting at? She was being cagey, even for Raydor.

Sharon went to sit in one of the chairs in front of her desk. "Lieutenant, did you know I have a small cottage near the beach at Monterey?"

This was not sounding good. At all. "No, Captain. Had no idea."

"I do. It's been in the family for some time. I was thinking about driving up there for the weekend."

Andy went from being horrified to petrified. "Sounds nice," he said, carefully, neutrally.

"It is. It's lovely, in fact. Very quiet, relaxing. And, since my husband died, I've been mostly going up there alone." The gleam in her eyes turned predatory.

No, no, no, NO! This was too weird to be happening, Andy thought. Friday morning, his life had been normal. Today, he was in a freaking soap opera. At least Brenda _liked _him. Sharon Raydor hated him!

"What are you getting at, Captain?"

"Just this, Lieutenant. I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me there this weekend?"

"Why? So you can kill me and hide the remains? And say I drowned or something?"

Sharon laughed at that. Actually, really laughed. With a genuine smile, she was suddenly a lot more attractive. "I occasionally forget what a wicked sense of humor you have, Lieutenant. No, homicide is the last thing on my mind."

"What's the first?"

"My, my but you're suspicious."

"That's because you hate me."

Sharon looked sidelong at Andy. "_Hate_ is a strong word. No, I don't hate you. I strongly disagree with the way you handle suspects, evidence, searches, witnesses, etcetera, but hate? No, I wouldn't say that at all. You're an extremely attractive man, in fact. "

Andy crossed his arms in front of him and narrowed his eyes at Sharon. "If you're saying what I think you're saying, then you don't need me. Hire a gigolo." Now, he was just disgusted.

Sharon pursed her lips in frustration. "I don't want a gigolo. I want to go with someone I trust."

Andy's expression changed to one of frank disbelief. "Now I know you've lost your marbles. You _trust_ me?"

"Of course I do. I trust you're not going to slit my throat and leave me by the side of the road or something. And you never know: we might even have a good time!"

Andy slowly shook his head. He felt like his world had been turned at a 45-degree angle and he had stepped into "The Twilight Zone."

"And what if I took you up on this little — proposal — and my chief finds out about it? You two definitely hate each other and a throat could very well end up being slit — mine."

Sharon rested her chin on her hand. "Normally, I'd ask you why you think she would care who you spend your personal time with. However, you and I both know that, in spite of her testimonies to marital bliss, she looks at you like she would a two-inch thick steak and a glass of good Merlot. Not to mention the fact that she thinks the private lives of her squad are her personal business, as well. However, I'm single, so the whole married thing doesn't come into play."

"What makes you think I'd want to mess around with my chief, anyway?"

"A little bird told me you didn't leave with the uniforms after the break-in at her house Friday night. Why in the world would you have stayed?" Sharon was really hoping to get Andy to confess to something.

Leave it to Raydor to hear about that. "To make sure she was really all right. She was pretty scared and I don't blame her. I left!" He was just conveniently leaving out _when_ he left.

"No need to be so touchy about it, Lieutenant."

"I'm not. So let me get this straight. You say the chief, essentially, looks at me like I'm a piece of meat. Then, out of the clear blue, you come up with me going to Monterey with you, for sex. What the hell is the difference?"

"The difference is I'm up front about it. As I said, Lieutenant, you're a good-looking man. We're both single, neither in relationships, that I'm aware of, and maybe, both interested in a little companionship." Sharon was trying to gauge Andy, but he was, and always had been, terribly difficult to read about some things.

"Companionship, huh?" he snorted. "Captain, why do I get the feeling this is just a set up to get me for some kind of inappropriate relationship thing for another FID investigation on me?"

Sharon sighed in frustration. She lifted her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I guess I have burned a lot of bridges in this job, haven't I?" She stood and faced him. "Andy, I'll be honest. I like you. You drive me about as crazy as one human possibly can — with the exception of that neurotic chief of yours — but I do like you. And we're both single adults. Why can't we just have a wild weekend? No strings. I wouldn't expect us to start _dating_, by any means. We would kill each other if that happened, but a fun weekend might relieve the, um, tension around here a little. Couldn't hurt."

It was a sign of how far off the rails Andy's reality had gone that he was actually considering Sharon's offer. Except he did have feelings for Brenda, and he had no doubt in his mind that she would kill him if she knew. But Brenda was still a married woman and, for him, completely unavailable until the divorce papers were signed. Sharon was very available, and interested. And really, it wasn't like she was hard to look at. She'd always had a killer figure, and even if her face was a little angular, she was a striking woman.

Sharon looked into Andy's eyes. Strange, but she had never noticed how dark they were. Right now, they were inscrutable, giving no hint as to what was going on inside his head. "So, you never answered me, Andy. Do you want to go with me?"

"I'll have to think about it. I'll let you know."

"All right. I can respect that. You can text me when you decide. Less chance of anyone overhearing."

Andy nodded. "Yeah. I will. See ya, Sharon." He walked out of her office. Oh God. What a day. This was one for the record books. As he stepped into the elevator, he thought about how nice it would be to dig a hole, crawl into it and not come out for about six months. "I can't believe it," he said to himself. "I answer the chief's call and she hits on me. I answer Raydor's call and _she_ hits on me. I'm not doing another thing for a woman for a month. Maybe a year."

* * *

><p>"Provenza, I think I'm going to lose my frickin' mind," Andy said to his friend over dinner.<p>

"Some men would get a charge out of the two top queen bees in their companies vying for their attention," Provenza answered.

"Then those men can have this problem. I don't want it. I feel like I'm in a minefield."

"So what are you gonna do?"

"Go to San Diego and get away from both of them," he answered. "Really, I don't know. You know what Brenda would do if she even had a suspicion I bought Sharon a cup of coffee, let alone went off with her for the weekend."

Provenza made a face. "Yeah. That could get ugly."

Andy nodded. "And if I don't go with Sharon, do you think she might trump up some FID charge on me? Or stick her nose in where it doesn't belong on a case, just to catch me doing something?" He ate a breadstick. "You know, either one of them hitting on me could be considered harassment, right? I mean, they outrank me. Me telling them 'no' could hurt my career if they wanted to get back at me."

Provenza set his beer on the table. "Yeah, I guess it could. Trouble is, with the wicked witch, she could make your life miserable in so many ways without jeopardizing your job. I don't think the chief would, but I don't know about Raydor."

Andy nodded. "I don't know either. And y'know, a weekend in Monterey sounds pretty good. But sleeping with one woman one weekend and her most un-favorite person the next? God, I'm not 19 anymore! I don't do that! And then, what if we catch a case this weekend? I know I'm supposed to be off, but if there's a case, she wants us there if we can get there."

"Dodgers are playing the Giants in Frisco this weekend. That's seven hours no matter how you slice it. Tough to get home from there in a hurry," Provenza said.

"You suggesting we go see the Dodgers and Giants, or is that a cover story if I go with Sharon?"

"Cover story. But it's plausible, at least. Tough to check on."

"So why are you suddenly helping me think up lies?" Andy said.

"Because, I'm your friend, moron, and I think it would be a lot less dangerous for you to spend the weekend in Monterey, even if it is with the wicked witch, than to mess around all week with your married boss while her hubby's in D.C."

"There's always the option called 'none of the above.'"

"Yeah, there is. But if you don't mess around with the chief, she'll just be pissed off at you. Since when is that anything new? But if you say no to Raydor, well, it could be bad news for all of us if _she's_ sufficiently pissed to raise a stink about something."

"So I'm supposed to be Sharon's weekend..." his voice trailed off.

"Booty call?" Provenza helpfully supplied.

Andy narrowed his eyes at Provenza. "Yeah. That. So the rest of the squad can live in peace, right?"

"Hell hath no fury like a Raydor scorned," Provenza intoned. He didn't _necessarily _think Raydor would take Andy's refusal out on the squad, but it was a possibility – and maybe it would help get Brenda out of Andy's system, which could only be a good thing. For both of them.

"Could be. I'm still gonna have to think about it, though. I don't like it."

"Me either. And I still don't really know how you got yourself into this one."

"That makes two of us," Andy answered.

The nights when Andy really wanted a drink were few and far between these days, but this was one night when a fifth of Turkey and a 2-liter of Coke would have gone down like a charm. It was difficult enough to sleep when all he could think about was Brenda, but now there was Sharon's offer. He could choke the woman for even bringing it up. He wondered if it was intended to be some kind of subtle payback for something Brenda had said or done to Sharon at some point in time. It wouldn't surprise him.

* * *

><p>"She was pretty upset when you got stabbed." That was Sgt. Nelson, who had accompanied Captain Raydor to the scene when Andy was attacked.<p>

"Is that so? What did she do?" Andy asked.

"She told the EMTs you'd better wake up when you passed out in the ambulance. She even helped catch you when you slumped over. And she was mad as hell the whole way to the hospital. She was saying as stubborn as you are anyway, she hoped you were too damn stubborn to die, that she couldn't stand the thought of you not making it."

Well, wasn't that something? "Thanks Doug. 'preciate the info."

"Sure, Lieutenant." The officer nodded and went down the hall.

When Andy wanted to think without being disturbed when they were in Parker Center, he went to a vacant office on the same floor as the murder room that was used for storage. There were some old office chairs and he could sit, go through his notes, whatever. With no empty offices in the new building, he had to get creative, so he worked it out with the custodian to slip into one of the supply rooms. The custodian "accidentally" left a folding chair in there so Andy could sit down. This morning, he had a cup of coffee and he leaned back in the chair and thought about what Officer Nelson said. Apparently, Sharon had realized some latent feelings for him, too, because of the attack. If this was the effect him being attacked had on the women around him, it might almost be worth getting mugged about twice a year. Andy chuckled. The things you found out, just by asking people.

He still hadn't made up his mind about Monterey. On one hand, he cared a lot about Brenda – had slept with her. On the other hand, she wasn't free to have a relationship with him. Not in the right way, anyway. So that was kind of a non-starter until she figured out what she wanted and started taking action. Sharon was available, though, and judging from what she had said the night he was attacked, might even care about him a little. Oh, he would hardly call it love, by any means, but they wouldn't be dating, either. It sounded a little clinical, yeah, but it wasn't like he had taken a vow of celibacy or something. He wasn't a monk. But he still had a couple of days to decide.

He did pass Sharon in the hall. She nodded at him pleasantly and that was all, but he saw the look in her eyes. It was actually kind of interesting to think she might be lusting after him. But any pleasant thoughts that engendered were wiped out as soon as he walked into the murder room.

"Lieutenant Flynn! Where have you been?" Brenda yelled at him.

He held up his cup. "Grabbin' a cup of coffee, Chief," he answered.

"You drink too much of that stuff," she snapped.

Andy shook his head and sat at his desk.

"There were two women raped last night within three blocks of each other," Brenda began. "So we may have someone who's been a peeping Tom or something, and he's escalated. Lieutenant Flynn, check on any reports made in this neighborhood by women, on men for the usual activity. And I'd better get a name I can use." Andy looked at Brenda a little incredulously.

"Sure, Chief," he said. Jeez. If Brenda was going to be this nasty to him, he'd be glad to get out of town.

She finished her rapid-fire instructions to the rest of the squad and as she walked by Andy's desk, she paused. He looked up at her, a question written all over his face.

Her face was set, angry. "I didn't get much sleep last night, Lieutenant," she hissed.

"Me either, Chief," he answered mildly.

Brenda tossed her head and flounced into her office and slammed the door. She was embarrassed at herself and she was taking it out on Andy. She was angry that she had all but given him a striptease in her office yesterday afternoon, trying to get him to fall in with her way of thinking. And then he said he wouldn't be her enabler. What she did Friday night hadn't been the right thing to do. It had sure enough felt right at the time, though.

Brenda Leigh Johnson didn't know how to deal with life when she didn't get what she wanted, when she wanted it. She had been spoiled rotten by her Daddy her whole life, and she expected all the men in her life to do exactly as she told them to. But Andy wouldn't. He was going to follow his own principles. Well, forget him, then. He could transfer out of her squad, for all she cared. In fact, she wished he would. He could take his principles somewhere else. She told herself that, anyway.

Andy shook his head. He could tell it was going to be a long week, and he would be in the crosshairs the whole time. Why, oh why, hadn't he left Brenda's house as soon as he could? Well, he sure as hell was paying for it now.

Brenda pushed Andy to his limits the rest of the week. He wasn't sure what she was trying to do, but he had a feeling it had something to do with her anger at herself. And she wouldn't talk to him. Wouldn't let him into her office. Gave him short answers and hung up on him when he called her at home to try to iron this out. He tried to be understanding, but he had his pride, too. And she alternately baited and subtly insulted him all week. But Thursday afternoon when she said, "Well, Lieutenant, I guess we'll do it your way, since you obviously always know the _right _thing to do," it was too much.

"Yeah, Chief," he said quietly. "Maybe so." He turned away from her and went to his desk, where he sent a one-word text to Sharon: "Yes."

A few minutes later, the answer came: "8 a.m. My place."


	4. Chapter 4: What Happens in Monterey

**A/N:** I said this wasn't going to proceed like you might expect it to. I guarantee you'll like the eventual ending, though. But half the fun is getting there, right? Please continue to R&R!

Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer."

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4: What Happens in Monterey...<strong>

"I wasn't sure you'd follow through with it," Sharon said when she opened the door.

"Good morning to you, too," Andy answered.

Sharon actually grinned a little sheepishly and motioned him inside. "Come in and good morning, Andy. Have you eaten yet?"

"Just coffee," he answered.

"We could stop north of town and eat. Sound good?"

He nodded. "Sure."

Sharon smiled at him. "I guess it _is_ a little awkward, isn't it? But I am curious. What did you tell your chief?"

"Left word with Provenza that I would be out of town and not available. It's my weekend off. I'm not even supposed to set foot in the department, under the new hours rules."

Sharon nodded. "So what will you tell her if she asks where you were?"

"Dodgers are playing the Giants in San Francisco this weekend."

She raised an eyebrow. "And isn't it convenient that you're a fan? Well, the cottage has a dish, so you can watch a couple of the games, if you want. Just so you'll know what went on. Before we leave, put your car in the garage, just to keep it safe. I'll go get mine, if you'll wait a minute."

"All right," Andy said. He watched Sharon go. She was looking as casual as he'd ever seen her. She wore white capris and a jade top that matched her eyes. Instead of heels she had on flat sandals. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail. But still, everything looked good on her. When she wasn't in her buttoned-up FID mode, she was a lot more attractive. He guessed that was deliberate.

Sharon came in the front door. "Pull into the garage, and we can be on our way."

"Sure." Andy went to his car and put it in the garage. He was a little gratified to see that her garage was as cluttered as most people's were. It made her a little more human. Nice house, though. Immaculate, which he expected. He went back inside the house and hit the button to close the door.

"Ready to go, then?" Sharon asked.

Andy nodded. "Yeah."

As they walked out front, Andy's eyes popped when he saw Sharon's car. He was expecting some kind of sleek sedan, like a Lexus, but no, she had a new Dodge Challenger convertible. It was silver with black racing stripes in the 60s style. "You drive this?"

Sharon smiled. "Not every day. My other car is in the shop for a complete check-up. This is my weekend baby. You like it?"

"Yeah, I like it. It's a sharp machine. I have to say: I didn't expect you to have anything like this."

"So maybe you'll find out a lot of unexpected things about me this weekend," she said.

"Could be." Sharon opened the trunk and Andy threw his duffle in the back. He chuckled inwardly when he saw her matching suitcase and totebag. Yeah, that was about right.

She checked her watch. "8:15. Not bad at all. Since it's a long drive, I wanted to get away as quickly as we could. Ready to go?"

"Sure." Andy got in the car.

"I'll keep the top up until we get out of town," Sharon said. "And out of the smog. But once we get down the road, I'll put it down. I tried driving through town once with the top down, and it took a month to get the smell out."

That got a laugh from Andy. He didn't know how much money Sharon made, but either she brought home a lot more than he did, or her late husband had been wealthy. He couldn't afford a ride like this one, that was for sure.

They stopped at a local café off the Pacific Coast Highway for breakfast. Sharon watched Andy get out of the car and walk ahead. He wore jeans and a navy polo shirt that accentuated his salt and pepper hair and olive skin. And why in the world had Sharon never noticed Andy's big, dark eyes until this week? She thought she remembered his eyes being brown, but not quite as brown as they were. All she had to do was think about the size of his officer incident reports file to remember what a loose cannon he could be, but she supposed every department needed one or two like him, just to remind criminals that cops meant business. She would never even think such a thing while inside her office, but she was on her own time today.

Breakfast was fairly quiet. Sharon said, "You're not saying much. I guess you're not a morning person."

"Never have been," Andy answered.

"Neither am I. In fact, cheerful morning people irritate me."

Andy laughed. "Me too. When Tao comes in, all perky and awake, I could choke him. It's obscene when people are that happy at eight in the morning."

Sharon grinned. "It is, isn't it? My sergeant, Doug Nelson — he's a fine officer. But he comes bouncing in with his Red Bull and he's jogged his five miles already and sings out 'Good morning, Captain!' and I get an instant headache. Right here," she said, pointing between her eyes. She looked keenly at Andy. "What about your chief? Is she a morning person?"

"That would just put the icing on the cake for you, wouldn't it, Sharon?" Andy chuckled. "But nah. She's not either one. If she comes in happy, she's happy all day. Comes in pissed, she's pissed all day. You never know."

"It must be difficult to work with someone whose moods are so — mercurial."

Andy waved an admonishing finger at her. "Uh-unh, Sharon. Stop trying to get me to give you all the dirt on the chief. Won't work."

"Actually, I wasn't." At Andy's dubious look, she grinned. "Well, yes, I was. A little. But not in my official capacity. Just from my natural curiosity. I suppose I find it difficult to understand why her squad is so fiercely loyal to her when she's so, I don't know. Changeable. Disorganized. And neurotic!"

"She has our backs. We have hers. You went around with us for what, a week last year? You know she's damn good at what she does. She gets results. She closes cases. She's not organized in the classic sense, but she's got a laser focus when it comes to cases. I'll bet her closed cases rate is triple that of Taylor's."

Sharon listened carefully to Andy's words, but there was nothing in his tone that indicated anything towards Brenda other than his respect for his boss. "You may be right about that one, Andy. But I don't really want to spend the next three days discussing Brenda Leigh Johnson."

"Me either," Andy agreed, and his voice was so decided that Sharon looked at him quizzically. "Tough week," he said. "Just one of those weeks. You know. So it's good I'm here. I need to relax and de-stress."

"I see," Sharon nodded, wondering what in the world had transpired in Major Crimes the previous week. "Well, I'll do my very best to help you do just that."

Something in her voice had turned a little smoky, a little sultry, but her expression didn't betray a thing. Andy understood how men could find Sharon Raydor extremely attractive. There was a mystery about her that was intriguing. All he had to do was think about how much hell she had put him through in FID investigations to remember why he didn't want to date her, but she was actually O.K. when she wasn't in the office. Which was good, since they'd be together for the next three days.

As they got to the car, she handed Andy the keys. "You're letting me drive this thing?" he said in disbelief.

She laughed. "Of course. It's a long ride to Monterey. I figured we'd probably be ready to stop about the time we get to San Luis Obispo, and we can switch drivers then. That's another reason I asked you to come. Driving that 300 miles all by myself gets a little tiring after a while."

"I can see where it would," Andy said, and got into the driver's seat. He started the car and listened to the engine for a moment. He nodded appreciatively. "Purrs like a kitten," he said.

"It does. And it will fly."

Andy grinned. "I'll bet. Ever really opened it up?" He eased the car on to the highway.

"Once, when I went to Nevada for a seminar. I was on the 15, going through the desert. It was about six in the morning and no traffic for miles. Mid week, you know."

"Yeah? How fast were you going?"

Sharon pressed her lips together and giggled. "120. I made it to Vegas in about three and a half hours."

Andy was impressed. That was a four-and-a-half hour trip on a good day. "Damn. You _were_ flying."

"Yeah, but I slowed down when I crossed the Nevada line. In California, my badge might get me out of a reckless driving charge. It might not in Nevada."

"Good thinking. But you could always say you were just testing the newest interceptor for the LAPD and needed to do it where there wasn't a lot of traffic, on real road conditions."

"Why Andy Flynn!" Sharon exclaimed. "You're a natural liar, you know that?" But she didn't sound upset.

"Whatever gets me out of trouble," he answered.

As they drove, Sharon got quiet and Andy looked over. She had fallen asleep. He didn't mind driving, though. Gave him a lot of time to think. And he had a lot to think about.

When they got to San Luis Obispo, he was ready to stop, but Sharon was still asleep. He pulled into a gas station and touched her on the shoulder. She woke with a start, then saw Andy and relaxed.

"We're in San Luis," he said. "I can keep driving if you want to sleep."

"No, I'm fine, but thanks for offering. I'll just get out and top off the tank if you want to stretch your legs."

"O.K.," he answered. He was ready to get out of the car for a few minutes and work the kinks out of his back.

When he got back to the car, Sharon had the top down. "It's a convertible, after all," she said.

"It's your ride, Sharon. Your decision."

As they got back out on the road, Andy figured out how to lean the passenger seat back a little. It gave him more leg room. He put his head back and before long, was asleep himself.

Andy had looked tired, Sharon thought. She wondered if he had been sleeping well, since he dropped right off like that. She thought about why she asked him on this trip, and decided if something physical happened, that was fine. If not, then it was a nice weekend away with a sexy man. And that was never a bad thing. Or a frequent one.

Andy woke up when they were about 10 miles out of Monterey. He had been there, but it had been several years, so it was interesting to see what had changed in that time.

When they got to Sharon's cottage, he grinned. It wasn't what he would call a "cottage." He'd bet it had five bedrooms.

"What is it?" she said.

"It's a really nice place. A little bigger than I thought."

"We have family here sometimes, so we needed a little room. But look around. It's in a beautiful spot."

"Yeah, it is. Quiet, like you said."

As they carried their things in, Sharon said, "Make yourself at home."

"Thanks." Andy walked around the house. Yep, five bedrooms. Three baths. A deck. A pool. Sharon or her family must have hired a maintenance service to keep it up. "Quite a place," he said, coming back into the kitchen.

"It's nice. You can bring your bag in here to the master bedroom. This is where I usually stay if it's just me."

Andy followed her inside the room. Make that four bathrooms, since the master suite had its own, private bath.

"I like this room because you can see the ocean so well," Sharon said.

Andy looked out the window. The view was spectacular. "Wow."

Sharon stood at the other window, looking out. "Cole and I used to sit on the deck for hours, just watching the waves," she said.

"Cole was your husband, right?"

Sharon nodded. "Yes. He was an investment banker. A good one. And a good husband."

"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Cancer. To be specific, diffuse intrinsic pontine glioma."

The words, spoken in Sharon's precise tones sounded awful. "Dear God. What is that?" Andy said.

"A type of brain tumor. They're usually seen in children, but Cole had it. Four rounds of radiation and one gamma knife procedure. He fought it for 20 months, which is about six months longer than most patients."

Andy shook his head. You just never knew. "Sharon, I'm so sorry. I remember when he passed away, but I don't think I ever heard what happened. That must have been — awful. Can't even imagine."

"We were lucky. We were able to control his pain for the last couple of weeks. He never got beyond where the morphine could help him. So, at least he wasn't in pain."

Andy crossed to stand behind Sharon and put his hands on her shoulders. "I really am sorry," he said.

She nodded. "Thank you, Andy. It's been eight years ago. Sometimes it seems like it was only yesterday, though. I got counseling, went to the grief support groups. It helped. I was able to get out of bed in the mornings and do my job. The pain eases, but it never completely goes away. I still reach for him in the night sometimes."

Andy didn't reply, but he did bring Sharon's back against his chest, put his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head. That small gesture of sympathy cracked her brittle façade and her shoulders began to shake. But she didn't cry, or at least Andy didn't think she did until he felt the tears drop to his arms. He turned her in his arms so her head was against his chest and he stroked her hair. She cried almost silently except for the occasional sniff. A box of tissues sat on the nightstand and he took several and when she raised her head, handed them to her.

She wiped her nose. "Thank you. I'm sorry about that."

"Don't be. Don't ever be sorry for feeling what you need to feel. Learned that in AA."

Sharon looked at him. "So you're human after all."

Andy grinned. "So are you. Nice to know."

Sharon laughed in spite of herself and wiped her eyes. "Some way to start a weekend."

"Ehh. No big deal." He sat in one of the comfortable armchairs in front of the window. Sharon was within arm's reach and he took her hand. "C'mere," he said.

"What is it?"

"Just come here." He pulled her into his lap.

"Andy, I've been thinking about why I asked you up here. It's not fair to do that to someone. So, I said if it happens, fine. If not, fine. Don't feel pressured."

He nodded. "Good to know." He put his arms around her and nuzzled her neck gently.

She shivered. Oh, but it had been a long time. "Andy, I'll never feel about another man the way I felt about Cole."

"It's O.K., Sharon. I don't expect you to." He continued kissing her neck, down to her shoulder. Heat poured through her. Why did Andy Flynn keep surprising her? She turned to catch his mouth with hers. He wasn't the first man she had kissed since Cole, by any means, but there was something about Andy that made her want his mouth on hers. She put her hand in his hair and brought it down the length of his neck, and up to his face. The kiss was so tender. Andy wasn't asking anything from her. He was just kissing her. Just holding her.

Sharon's mouth was soft and sweet. Andy never would have ascribed the word "sweet" to anything concerning Sharon Raydor, but her lips were surprisingly pliable under his. He felt for her ponytail scrunchie and pulled it free and shook her hair down so he could touch it.

Sharon felt his hands in her hair and him very lightly scratching her scalp. It sent shivers down her spine and she pulled Andy closer, held him tighter. She didn't know how long they sat, kissing, holding each other, but Andy finally lifted his head.

"Hey Captain," he said teasingly, "My legs are gettin' numb."

She snickered. "Lieutenant, is that a subtle — for you — way of saying I weigh too much?"

"Not at all. You've just been in one spot too long. And I could kill for some dinner. That burrito was a long time ago."

Sharon nodded. "I could use a bite or two myself. There's a great place pretty close to here. You want to try it?"

"Anything sounds good at this point," he answered.

* * *

><p>They ate and walked down Cannery Row, watching the people. Sharon was still a little quiet, and Andy guessed she was thinking about when she and her husband had been in these places. So he didn't try to get her to talk. He just put an arm around her shoulders as they walked.<p>

Never would Sharon have thought Andy would be as sensitive to what was going on inside her head. But he seemed to know, and his arm was a comfort. She thought he must be incredibly forgiving to be so sweet to her when she had been an unholy terror on his squad, occasionally. She could admit it when she wasn't in the office. She had allowed her animosity towards Brenda to affect her work. Incidents that would have gone by the wayside in Robbery/Homicide or Vice got put under the microscope for Major Crimes. She needed to watch that in herself.

"I'm sorry, Andy, what did you say?" he startled her out of her thoughts.

"Ready to go back?"

"I think so, if you are."

He nodded. "Yeah. Maybe I can catch a couple innings of the Dodgers."

"Sure."

Andy settled in to what Sharon called the "back den," which was much smaller and cozier than the rest of the house. He found the game and was sitting on the sofa, watching the Dodgers' pitching fall apart, to his disgust, when Sharon came in and sat in a wingback chair on the opposite side of the sofa. Andy looked over at her. "You can sit on the sofa. I promise I don't bite. Most of the time," he said with a roguish grin.

Sharon smiled at that and got up. "Well, since I'm up now, I think I'd like a cup of coffee. I've got decaf. Would you like a cup?"

"Sounds good," he answered.

Sharon made the coffee and brought Andy a mug. "Thanks, Sharon. Sit down. Do you like baseball?"

"It's better than the NFL, that's for sure," she answered. "At least there's a little strategy involved. It's not just these huge men ramming into each other."

Andy chuckled. "It's definitely a strategy game." He watched for a moment. "And if the manager doesn't get another pitcher on the mound in a hurry, it's gonna take a bulldozer to dig him out of that hole."

Finally, the young pitcher worked his way out of the jam, and the inning was over, but not before the Giants had gone ahead by one run. "Man, that kid must still think he's still in the minors, pitching like that."

"You're such a fan," she said.

He shrugged. "My dad loved the Dodgers, even after they moved here, so I grew up rooting for them, too."

"I see." She was watching Andy watch the game. When the Dodgers came to bat, he was drumming his fingers nervously against the sofa cushion, as if willing them to get a hit. Sharon put her hand over his. "Calm down. You're twitching."

At the touch of her hand on his, Andy looked over at Sharon. "C'mere," he said, extending his arm. There was something in his eyes that made her nervous and excited at the same time. Something about Andy warmed Sharon up inside. She sat closer to him, and he draped his arm around her shoulders until the top of the inning was over.

"Now then," he said.

"What?" Sharon was suddenly, unaccountably, apprehensive.

Andy looked at her. For the life of him, he would never understand how women's minds worked. He guessed that was universal, though. "Never thought I'd see you jumpy. I just thought you might want to shift the way you're sitting, so you don't get a kink in your neck."

"Oh. All right. Am I jumpy?"

Andy nodded. Then he said, "So come over on my opposite side and sit." He scooted over just a little.

"That's not enough room," she said.

"It is for your backside. Put your legs over mine."

"And how is that going to keep me from getting a kink in my neck?"

He shook his head. "Jeez, Sharon. Humor me, how about it?" She was acting like a teenager on her first "car date."

Strangely, that's how Sharon felt. It was one thing to fantasize about this man when she was alone in her house, but having the real thing near her was very different than she thought it would be. But, she was hardly afraid of Andy, so she got up, and arranged herself as he suggested. The result was that she was mostly cradled in his arms and he could kiss her easily. While the commercials were on, he did just that. Sharon found herself wishing for quickly played innings because, as soon as the players ran back to the dugout, his mouth took hers again. While the game was in progress, his free hand rested on her thigh, and he stroked her leg. Sharon knew she would never watch a baseball game in the same way ever again. By the top of the ninth inning, she was ready to start tearing his clothes off. She was terrified the Dodgers would tie up the ballgame and heaven forbid, send it into extra innings. She couldn't stand much more of this.

Anticipation had its uses and Andy could tell Sharon was getting antsy for the game to end. She wanted to take this to the bedroom, and to Andy's surprise, he wanted the same thing. Brenda had been a complete bitch to him all week, and she wasn't even available. Sharon was in his arms and wanted him and was available. His ego had taken a beating and Sharon's obvious eagerness for him was a salve on it.

"Game's over, Sharon."

"Good." She somehow managed to stand and held out her hand to Andy. "Come on."

He stood. "Don't have to ask me twice," he said. He followed her the short distance to the bedroom.

Sharon stayed his hand from turning on the overhead light. She turned on the side lamp instead. "Not as harsh. And Andy, I don't have the body of a 20-year-old anymore."

He snickered. "You think I do?"

She smiled. "I just hope you're not disappointed."

"Don't worry. You look great."

She twined her arms around him. "You're good for my ego," she said.

"And you're good for mine." He kissed her and slid his hands underneath her top.

At the feel of his hands on her skin, heat slammed into Sharon. It melted her natural reserve and cool exterior. The only other man who had been able to do that so quickly was Cole, but she knew he wouldn't mind. So she kissed Andy back, holding on to him, her hands on his skin, loving the way it felt. Her top came off, followed shortly by his shirt. He backed her to the edge of the bed and she lay back and held her arms out. Andy got out of his jeans and lay beside her, his hands going to the fastening of her capris and he had them on the floor in record time. As he looked at Sharon, he grinned.

"What is it, Andy?"

"You dressed for it," he answered. Sharon wore a pink satin bra trimmed in black lace and matching panties. He ran a finger across the top of the lace on her bra and followed it across the curve of her breast. Her mouth went dry. She looked into those fathomless brown eyes and he said, "You still look great, Sharon." She smiled at him and closed her eyes as he flicked open the clasp on her bra. He pushed the cups aside and covered her breasts with his hands. Sharon gasped softly as she felt Andy touch her.

"Does that feel good?" he said. All she could do was nod. It felt _so_ good. She ran her hands down his back, underneath his shorts and over his rear end. She started sliding his shorts off and they hit the floor.

When he started teasing her nipples with his mouth, Sharon could hardly breathe. When she felt his hand brush aside the satin of her panties to touch her, she cried out, willing him to continue that soft torment as he teased that nub.

Get Sharon Raydor on her back and that ice turned to fire, Andy thought, a little crudely. But she didn't try to fight for dominance. Just the opposite. She was totally relaxed and completely in the moment. And she was hot, and wet, and willing. She was telling him how much she wanted him, in fact. Then he was inside her and she was actually almost chanting his name.

Sharon's breath was coming in short pants as Andy moved inside her. This was going to be a night to remember, she knew. He kept up that rhythm and Sharon met his hips with hers every time. "Andy, I need this so bad," she panted. "I need you so bad. Don't stop."

Well, he had no intention of doing that, for sure. Sharon's body was warm and welcoming and it was just where he wanted to be. And he was going to make her scream if it was the last thing he ever did.

Sharon could feel the inevitable start in her back, snaking down her thighs and back up again. As her climax crashed over her, she did scream. She pummeled Andy's back with her palms, which was at least better than digging her nails in, and she felt him as he peaked too, and both of them more or less collapsed into each other.

Several minutes of silence followed, broken only by heavy breathing and sighs. Andy held Sharon close and put his cheek against her hair. Sharon reveled in the feel of his hands stroking her skin and his tender, small kisses on her neck. Finally, she turned over. "I think I'd like to get my nightgown on," she said.

"Fine with me." Andy watched as she got up. She still had that killer body. She slipped on a sleeveless, white cotton nightgown with embroidery at the neck. It surprised Andy. It was a little old-fashioned, but he liked it. He scooted over to the side of the bed and snagged his shorts from the floor and put them on. Sharon was brushing her hair.

"It was a mess," she said.

"That's how it's supposed to be after good sex," Andy said. "Haven't you heard?"

She turned to him with a smirk. "Great sex, you mean, don't you?

"Well, it was for me, but I didn't want to speak for you, too," he said with a low chuckle and lay back on the bed. Sharon turned the lamp out and got in the bed, too.

"Do you cuddle?" came Andy's baritone in the darkness.

"Always," she answered and felt Andy's strong arm scooting her close to his body. He fitted himself to her curves and leaned over to kiss her ear.

"Good night. Sweet dreams," he said.

"Good night, Andy."

Sharon relished falling asleep in a man's arms for the first time in a long while. Her body, in turn, felt good in Andy's arms and he dropped into the best sleep he'd had in a week.

* * *

><p>When Sharon woke up, she was warm and comfortable. In the night, she had turned over to face Andy and her cheek was pillowed against his chest. It was a nice way to wake up, for a change. She didn't know if she would want it all the time now, but once in a while, it was wonderful. Once Sharon was awake, she could rarely go back to sleep, so she eased out of Andy's arms and got up. She put her glasses on and went to the bookshelf in the room, where she found an old favorite novel. She sat in one of the chairs in the room and started reading. The only sounds were the waves on the rocks and Andy's soft snoring.<p>

Somehow, she couldn't concentrate on the book and looked over at Andy. Ten days ago, if anyone had told her she would be in her house at Monterey, having just spent a passionate night with Lieutenant Andy Flynn, she might have slapped them with a lawsuit for defamation of character. It really was amazing how different people were when they weren't in the office. She knew she was, and Andy certainly was. She would have never called him "sweet," ever, but get him away from the department, and he was. He was even a gentleman, which she also never would have suspected. She wondered about his feelings for his chief, though. For some odd reason, Brenda had a strange effect on the men around her.

Sharon didn't understand it, but she was intensely curious about Andy's feelings towards Brenda. So far, he hadn't even brought her up, except in connection with a case Sharon inquired about, which seemed to indicate they were on a strictly professional footing. But part of what made Sharon so good at her job was her strongly developed intuition and she had more than a sneaking suspicion Andy's late acceptance of her offer and his admission of having had a tough week added up to something that happened at Brenda's after he cleared the scene Friday night. According to Andy, Brenda had called him because she knew Tao, Provenza and Gabriel would all have been long since asleep, and Sanchez was out of town on vacation. So Andy the night owl was the logical choice. But Sharon didn't entirely buy that excuse.

As her analytical mind clicked through the known facts, Sharon remembered seeing Brenda once the past week, followed by Gabriel, as usual. She had looked like a tornado about to strike and was snapping at David, which she never did. David Gabriel was the one member of her squad who rarely got the brunt of her ire. And then, there was Andy's immediate agreement that he didn't want to talk about his chief. Suddenly, the puzzle fell into place. Andy and Brenda slept together last weekend. And, knowing what she did about Andy, Sharon knew he wouldn't be okay with having an affair with a married woman, and he probably told her so. Knowing what she did about Brenda, Sharon could guess the sex was her idea in the first place, not getting exactly what she wanted had _really_ pissed her off, and she had made Andy's life a living hell all week. It fit. Every piece, perfectly.

A sly grin crossed Sharon's face. Well, if she was the lucky beneficiary of Andy's affection, she wasn't going to complain. And if Brenda Leigh Johnson only knew exactly what her sexy lieutenant was doing on his weekend off, she would have the cow of the century. Sharon had discovered she really did like Andy, and did not want to use him or take advantage of him. However, if getting him in the sack meant that Brenda wouldn't get what she wanted, for a change, it was certainly a delightfully delicious bonus. And it was almost certainly Brenda's own fault because she had treated Andy like crap all week. Brenda Leigh Johnson: done in by her own bitchiness.

The thought was such a pleasant one, Sharon nearly laughed out loud. She looked at the bed. Andy was sleeping so soundly, she hated to wake him up. But she found herself wanting his body again. So far, he had certainly exceeded her expectations in that department, anyway. She took her glasses off and put them on the side table and slipped out of her nightgown. She carefully got under the sheet and got close to Andy. He didn't move. So she put a light hand on his chest. Nothing. He was really out. She wondered exactly what might wake him up.

With that in mind, she slid her hand from his chest down to his shorts. She smiled when she touched him. Morning wood could be very convenient. She stroked him, cupping her hand around him, and he stirred, just a little. A bit more and he shifted under her hand. So, she tipped her face up to nibble and kiss his neck. Finally, his eyes fluttered open and he murmured, "Now that's the way to wake up."

"Sleep well?" Sharon said against his skin, still touching him.

"Yeah. Like a rock. What are you doing, woman?"

She chuckled low. "It's not obvious?"

"Well, yeah, it is."

"So you just lie back and let me amuse myself, then." She was kissing his chest, by this time.

"I like your idea of amusement," he answered.

It wasn't long before Sharon couldn't wait any more. She climbed on top of him and pressed her hips to his, seating his body firmly inside hers.

Andy closed his eyes at first, then opened them. He reached to touch her breasts. "Mind if I get some amusement too?" he said.

"Knock yourself out," Sharon answered, as she moved against him.

It was over a little more quickly than Sharon would have liked, and Andy apologized profusely, but then more than made up for it by making her scream again –this time, just with his hands. Morning wood was convenient, but also highly unpredictable, Sharon recalled.

"Way to start a morning," Andy said, stretching and draping his arm around Sharon.

"Indeed it is. Wonder what your chief would say if she knew where you were?"

Andy rolled his eyes. "Don't even bring it up."

Sharon weighed her words. "Something else happened at her house last weekend, didn't it, Andy?"

He shot her a look. "Some way you have with pillow talk, Sharon."

"Oh, come on. Give me a little credit here. You had to know I'd get curious. We don't exactly have the friendliest history to be suddenly cozy and chummy in bed together without a reason."

Andy might have known Sharon's brain wasn't going to let this little puzzle go. "All right, lady detective. You tell me what you think happened, and I'll be honest and tell you if you nailed it or not."

"I think you went to her house with every honorable intention. You were checking on your chief. Perfectly understandable. You stayed to make sure she was all right. So far, no problems. You were just being a responsible member of her squad. Then, she propositioned you or seduced you, or something. And you slept with her. First problem. Then, you probably told her you don't normally screw around with married women, and she needed to get her husband situation taken care of before you'd consider it. Second problem. Then, instead of respecting your decision, even if it disappointed her, she gets royally pissed off at you for doing what you felt was the right thing. Third problem. Fourth problem: she treated you like hell all week, which made my little idea a lot more attractive than it otherwise might have been. How am I doing so far?"

Listening to her, Andy's respect for Sharon's analytical talents went through the roof. He didn't think he had given her anything to go on, but she laid out almost exactly what happened.

"So? Was I right?"

"Battin' a thousand, babe."

She sat back against the headboard and nodded in satisfaction. "I thought so."

"You'd never tell her, would you?"

Sharon's green eyes widened in shock. "Me? Oh, hell no! I don't want to be hacked to death in my bed on some dark night!"

Andy laughed. Sharon's voice was much more animated when she wasn't at work and adopted that cool monotone. "You've got a pretty wicked sense of humor yourself, Captain."

"Oh Andy, now tell me you can't picture her chasing me down the hall, brandishing a hatchet, screaming how I snatched her man from her?" Sharon was openly giggling.

In spite of himself, Andy laughed until he hurt at that statement. "You know, I can. That's the bad part!" And they both laughed again.

"She would not appreciate us having such a laugh at her expense," Sharon snickered.

"Noooo," Andy answered. "But it's actually kind of a relief that you figured it out. I don't have to tap dance around it, now."

"I promise I'll never use it against you."

"That's good to know."

Sharon put her hand on his leg. "But now that I've figured it out, I think I have the right to ask how you feel about her."

Andy looked at his hands. She had a point. "I think I'm a prize idiot for letting her talk me into sleeping with her, and then coming with you. It can't end well."

"You didn't answer my question. You won't hurt my feelings, if that's what you were worried about."

Andy gave her a sidelong look. "I care a lot about her. Provenza and I discussed this very subject Monday night. I think I've had kind of a crush on her, as adolescent as that sounds. But it goes a lot deeper than that, and I'm damned if I know why."

"Sounds like she's cast a spell on you. And you all call me the wicked witch. She probably has a Ouija board and a sacred circle with your badge photo in it in the spare bedroom."

"God, Sharon, but you're mean," he chuckled, but then sobered. "I want her. I do. But not like this. But she thinks she's got to have it her way, and I can't do it. I won't."

"My, my. Brenda Leigh Johnson insisting on her own way, no matter who gets caught in the crossfire. Why, that's so out of character! But Andy, do you love her?"

He leaned his head back. "God help me Sharon, but I think I might."

"What a glutton for punishment you are."

"No. I'm not doing it her way, regardless. And even if it is love, people do get over it. I will too, if I have to."

Sharon nodded. "I respect you for that, Andy. But let me give you just a little advice, which I normally don't do. During all my counseling and therapy and sessions, I met a few women like her. She's just not very self-aware, and doesn't quite understand why she does some things. Something drives her. And she needs to find out what that something is, and get it resolved. My guess is, it's that horrific first marriage she had. It's almost like PTSD or something. She's driven to defend the helpless, because no one defended her when she was helpless. And the control issues could stem from that, as well. If she does split from Agent Howard, insist she get some counseling before you start a relationship with her. And stick to your guns."

Andy shook his head. "If you weren't such a good detective, I'd say you'd make a fine shrink."

Sharon smiled at him. "Thanks. But I said I didn't want to spend the whole weekend talking about her, and I don't. So let's do something else. Maybe even something you do outside of a bedroom."

"Sex on the beach?"

Sharon snorted and elbowed Andy. "You're awful." He nodded and grinned at her. Their weekend was not spent entirely in the bedroom, but enough of it was to satisfy Sharon's curiosity about Andy as a lover. No complaints.

"This didn't happen tomorrow," Sharon said, as she walked Andy out to his car.

"I know. I'll just grope you in the elevator once in a while to remind you," he teased.

Sharon laughed in spite of herself. "Should I text you the next time I'm planning a trip up to Monterey?"

"You can. Or for dinner occasionally. Not dating, just dinner."

"We might even say we're friends, however unconventionally it started."

"We could say that." He kissed her sweetly and got in the car. "See you tomorrow, Captain."

"Be careful going home, Lieutenant."

* * *

><p>Fritz had called to say he had hit a snag in D.C. and wouldn't be home until Wednesday. Big deal. But Brenda was halfway through a bottle of Merlot and seething with rage. Yesterday, she had gone into the office and heard two officers talking. One had seen that woman in some cafe north of town. And she wasn't alone. Andy was with her. The officer had seen Andy here in the office and recognized him. Brenda wasn't sure which one she was going to kill first: Andy or that woman.<p> 


	5. Chapter 5: When This Cruel War is Over

**A/N:** Let the fireworks begin! This chapter just didn't shape up like I thought it was going to when I started it, but that's the nature of writing, I suppose. Please continue to R&R. I read them all and truly appreciate them!

Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer."

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5: When This Cruel War is Over<strong>

Andy was getting dressed Monday morning when his cell rang. It was Brenda. Andy wondered if she was calling to gripe at him or what. But he answered.

"Hello?"

"Andy? Hello. Um, I'm feeling a teeny bit under the weather this morning, so I won't be in to work, but I do have some files that need to get there. Would you mind running by my house this morning and picking them up for me?"

She sounded all right, but Andy was suspicious. "Sure, Chief. Be glad to."

"Thank you so much. And if it wouldn't be too much trouble, can you come on along? I think we need to talk."

"Yeah. I'll be there in a few."

"O.K., Andy. See you."

"Bye." He clicked the phone off. Brenda sounded entirely too sweet and conciliatory. He had learned from long, painful experience that, when she sounded like that, she was usually at her worst. So, with apprehension in his heart, he left the house.

He pulled into her driveway, still feeling that something very bad was on the horizon. But, he went to the door and knocked anyway.

"Just a minute!" he heard her sing out. Oh, this was going to hurt. He could feel it in his bones. She answered the door. "Come in Andy, please."

He entered the house and as soon as Brenda shut the door, she turned and slapped his face with all her strength.

"What the hell!" Andy said, bringing his arm up automatically.

"You sorry, lyin', two-timin' DAWG!" Brenda screamed, following the slap up with a vicious shove.

Andy grabbed her wrist and twisted it behind her. "Come at me one more time Brenda, and I swear to God, I'm filing an assault charge on you." He walked her to the sofa and sat her down. "Now what the _hell_ do you think you're doing?"

"You're nothin' but a low-down piece of trash, Andy Flynn, and I hate the day I ever laid eyes on you!"

"Well after that, I'm starting to feel the same way, Brenda. What is wrong with you?"

"You stand there and ask me that after you spent the weekend servicing THAT WOMAN?"

Now, how in the world had she found out about that? Andy wasn't sure he wanted to know. But he wasn't going to deny it. No use in it. "Why do you care, Brenda? You're a married woman. Where is your husband, anyway?"

"Home Wednesday and stop reminding me I'm married all the time!"

"I shouldn't have to." He took a big risk and picked up her left hand with its rings. "This ought to." He placed her hand back in her lap.

"After what happened, after I told you how I feel about you, and you said you cared about me, after all that, and you went off with that woman? I can't believe you're such a – a PIG!"

Dealing with two ex-wives had given Andy some experience where hysterically angry women were concerned. He took a deep breath. "Brenda, if I had been stringing you along, making you think I was going to get in a relationship with you, I could maybe understand. But I didn't do that to you. I told you we would talk — repeat _talk_ — when you made a decision and took some action. And until then, and I think I was pretty clear about it, we wouldn't see each other except at work. Was there any of that you didn't understand?"

"No," she said, tightly.

"Then my personal life is not your concern."

She came up off the sofa and Andy stepped back. "How DARE you say that? After I told you how much I wanted you! After that and you couldn't even keep it in your pants for a week before you – you – stood at _stud_ for Sharon Raydor!"

Andy shook his head. "You want to place blame, Brenda? Then go look in the mirror. I was going to tell Sharon no, I wasn't interested. I didn't have any intention of going until you made it a point to let me know exactly what you thought of me by treating me like I was lower than dog shit all week. And did I not try to talk to you, work it out, get it resolved? But no, you wouldn't even look at me except to insult me or try to pick a fight with me. You hung up on me when I called you. I'm human, Brenda, and I have feelings, too. I tried to be honest with you, but because you weren't getting your way, you had to let me know I was dirt under your feet."

"So you went with her as what, revenge? Throwing it in my face?" Andy's words hurt terribly, and not because he insulted her, which he hadn't — because they were true. She flopped back on to the sofa.

"No. I wouldn't do that to you. Or anyone. She asked me Monday. I didn't even tell her I'd go until late Thursday afternoon, after you, well, you remember what you said to me. But it wasn't revenge. No, it was the thought of being around someone who didn't treat me like shit. It was getting out of here and getting some breathing room. It was being around someone who actually wanted my company."

"But Raydor? _Her_? God, Andy, anybody but her!"

"I know you two hate each other, but that's not my problem. That's for the two of you to work out. But let me tell you this: we had a nice time. No, we're not dating, if that's your next accusation to fling at me, but she was really, genuinely nice to me. And after the week I had, I needed that."

Brenda's mother had always said your chickens come home to roost, and her treatment of Andy was coming home to her in a really ugly way. But rather than think about that, she set her chin stubbornly instead and said, "Well, if you can't handle it when someone is upset with you, then I don't know what I think about you."

Andy narrowed his eyes at her. "You'd rather die than admit you screwed up, wouldn't you? I know every man in your life since after your first marriage has danced to your tune, and put up with whatever crap you threw at him. But the way you treated me last week was verbal abuse, Brenda."

"What? No it wasn't! I wouldn't abuse a member of my team!"

Andy sighed. "Yes, it was abuse, and I will not just hang my head and take it because it's you dishing it out. That's something else I learned in AA. We call it setting boundaries. I set mine clearly and honestly with you. But nobody's boundaries get any respect from you, except your own. If you don't like the boundaries, you try to bulldoze over them, and if you can't, this is how you react. Well, you're not doing it to me. Not again. Lieutenant March in Hollywood Division is retiring. Their captain called me last week to ask me if I'd be interested in the position. I told him no, but after this, I'm calling him and if it's still available, I'm requesting a transfer. Paperwork will be on your desk in the morning."

That statement threw a bucket of ice water over Brenda's anger and she gasped. Transfer? No. No! Her eyes filled with tears. "Andy, please, don't request that transfer. I'm so sorry. Please, don't do it."

Andy hated seeing any woman, particularly this one, cry, but if he caved, he knew he would be giving her a free ticket to browbeat him anytime she felt like it. The only way to deal with her was to call her bluff, and not back down. Even though he didn't like Fritz Howard, suddenly, he had a lot of sympathy for him. Still, he sat down on the sofa beside her. "Brenda, you came at me twice this morning. Twice. Once with an open-handed slap." He turned his head and she could now clearly see her handprint in vivid red on his cheek. "What would you do?"

Brenda brought her hand to her mouth in genuine horror. She had hurt Andy. She shook her head slowly. "Oh Andy, I can't believe I did that. How could I have done that? You're the last person in the world I want to hurt! I've never lost control like that - that I can remember. I'm so, so sorry. That doesn't cover it I know, but I truly am."

"I believe you," he said, and he did. It wasn't like she had an abuser mentality. He took her hands. "Brenda, you need some help. I think the trauma of that first marriage is coming back to you or something, but you need to get some counseling." He took her chin and forced her to look into his eyes. "You've been drinking, haven't you?"

She couldn't look into those eyes and lie. She nodded, biting her lip. "Last night. A lot."

"Then it's time to get help. Not for me, or your husband. For you. Do you understand me?"

"I-I will, Andy. I swear I will," Brenda said and started to cry in earnest. Unlike Sharon, Brenda cried noisily, and Andy couldn't not put his arms around her. She sobbed like a child against him and he cradled her head against his chest.

"Brenda, I'm sorry you were hurt by me going with Sharon this weekend." He didn't apologize for going, she noticed, just expressed sadness that Brenda's feelings were hurt.

"No, Andy. I'm to blame, all the way. You're right. I said terrible, horrible things to you last week, and this morning, too. It was awful how I treated you. I'm sorry. I should be apologizing, not you. I'm surprised you didn't move to - Seattle or somewhere, after last week. I probably would have."

"I considered San Diego," he said, and Brenda gave him a watery smile. "But," he continued. "Not a word to Captain Raydor, or anyone else about this, or I'll put in for that transfer. You have my word on that. And, no more of this crap like what went on last week."

"I won't do it again."

He held her chin again to look into her eyes. "I'm dead serious, Brenda. Don't you even look sideways at Raydor. She's not in this. She had no idea what was up. A word to her, or if you give me hell for no reason, I'm gone. If you have a legitimate reason to chew me out, feel free. But no more of these little jabs and barbs. I don't have to put up with it, and I'm not. Got it?"

She nodded. "I've got it. I can't believe I treated you that way. I'm sorry, Andy."

"O.K. I know. But here's some extra incentive for you. The team noticed, Brenda. David Gabriel called me last night to ask if there was something he could say to you to get you to lay off me. It affects performance and morale. We all have bad days, bad weeks. We all snap and grouse, but when Gabriel calls _me_, offering to be the mediator, there is a serious problem."

Brenda bit her lip. "Oh, my Lord. I just didn't even think. You know, my Daddy always has said my ugly temper and acid tongue were gonna land me in real hot water one of these days. When I'm angry, I just don't care what I say. And then, I look back and find out I've said some unforgivable things." She raised her eyes to Andy, looking for condemnation in his eyes, but she didn't find it. That hurt even worse. She deserved his contempt.

"Like I don't have a temper? I know I do. And I'm here to tell you: the booze did not improve it."

"Do you really think I've got a drinking problem, Andy?"

He shrugged. "I can't say for sure. I'd say maybe it's a symptom, more than the actual issue. But something's definitely wrong. The past six months, you've not really been yourself." He picked up her left hand again. Her rings were loose on her finger. "How much weight have you lost? A lot. Something has changed. Can you tell me what it is?"

Brenda shook her head. "About that time, six months or so, I started having nightmares about Lamar again. It's been years."

"Lamar – your douchebag of a first husband, right?"

She nodded, her face white.

Andy was a fine detective in his own right, and he had dealt with enough domestic violence cases that he recognized some symptoms. "Let me guess. He finally got out of prison from those drug charges just about six months ago."

"Yeah, he did."

"And he's contacted you."

She nodded again.

Andy put his hands on her shoulders. "Brenda! Why in God's name haven't you told Howard about this? He's your husband, and FBI. I think he could do something."

"I told him."

"Yeah? What did he say?"

"Oh, you know. He was real upset, but then he said Lamar was stupid and broke and there was no way he could get out to L.A., but he'd tell the Atlanta division and metro PD to keep their eyes and ears open."

Andy heaved a sigh. "Oh, my God. That's _so_ useful," he said, voice heavy with sarcasm. Then, something else clicked. "That's why you were so freaked out after the break-in, wasn't it? If you had known it was a couple of teenage slackers, you'd have popped a cap in their asses and chased them out of the house. But you thought it might be Lamar."

At her nod, Andy gathered her into his arms again. "Brenda, you've got to tell the squad, and Pope."

"No! I can't do that!"

"Yeah, you can. And you're going to. Let me tell you why. If you tell everyone about Lamar Tate being out of prison, and how you've been scared, it goes a long way toward explaining how you acted last week, all right? Even if it's not the real reason, it sounds good. Also, get Tao to keep tabs on him. If he comes to L.A., we need to know. But also, we know there's a possible situation and we can stay on top of it, and keep you safe. He will have to get through us, and me personally to get to you. Do you think there's a shot in hell I'm gonna let him get past me?"

Brenda started crying again. Fritz had told her he would look after her, but where was he? In D.C. So who would make sure she was safe? Andy. It was always Andy who protected her. Not that Fritz hadn't defended her, but only against threats he could _see_. He had to see it first. But Andy clearly understood the threat, however distant it might remain, and he told her up front that her psycho ex would have to get through him to get to her. She clung to Andy, whose strong arms were better than body armor any day.

"I'm a mess, Andy. Just a mess. Emotionally, mentally, everything."

Andy laughed softly. "We're all a mess in some way. You're just a little more – out there about it than most people."

Brenda nodded. "I know it. I'm impossible." She looked at him and brought her hand up to his face where she had slapped him. "I'll never forgive myself for doing that, Andy. Can you forgive me?"

His smile was sweet and his eyes were kind. "You forgave me for being such a creep, didn't you? What's a whack upside the head between friends?"

"I don't deserve you being so nice to me," she said.

"Who deserves anything? Good thing we don't get what we deserve, most of the time, in fact."

"I still don't feel like going in today, unless we catch a case. Do you mind?"

He shook his head. "No."

"And would you do one thing for me? Please?"

"What's that?"

"Tell the team about Lamar. I don't know that I can do it. It's hard to do, Andy."

Andy nodded and hugged Brenda again. "I'll do it. And I'll even go to the Vatican and tell Pope, if you want me to."

"Would you, please?"

"Sure." He stood and so did Brenda.

She put her arms around him again. "I wish you could stay."

"I know."

She sniffed. "I guess it's not fair of me to ask you not to see that woman again, is it?"

Andy shook his head. "No, it's not fair. It's understandable, but you don't need to worry about what I'm doing after hours. It'll just drive you crazy and you've got enough on your plate right now. But, by mutual agreement, Sharon and I aren't dating, all right?"

"All right. I guess I'll have to deal with it for now."

"That's life, Brenda."

"Yeah, I guess so. But thank you for not bringing me up on an assault charge. Thank you for everything."

Andy kissed Brenda's forehead. "You're welcome. Feel better. And stay out of the Merlot today, how about it? It doesn't help."

Brenda nodded. "I know. But scoot on out of here. Provenza will be wondering where you are."

"Yeah, but he'll live." He touched her face, winked at her and was gone.

Brenda collapsed on the sofa. She drew her knees up to her chest and put her head on them. She had nearly completely ruined any chance to have any kind of future with Andy. He was right. She needed someone to talk to. Memories from her first marriage were coming back with increasing intensity and it was affecting every part of her life. She still didn't think she and Fritz had much of a future together, but she owed it to herself to find some balance in her life – especially if things worked out where she could have a relationship with Andy.

* * *

><p>Andy drove to work in something of a daze. He was pretty much bowled over by what happened that morning. He surely hoped Brenda would take his advice about counseling. He was just glad they seemed to have come to a peace accord. He couldn't take another week like the last one, and neither could the team. Not and function well.<p>

Before he got out of the car, he looked at his face in the mirror. The mark was fading, thank goodness. He didn't want to have to explain that, particularly if he ran into Sharon. There was no way she'd let that go.

He grabbed a cup of coffee in the break room and nearly ran over Provenza.

"Where the hell have you been?" he snapped.

"Chief's house," Andy answered.

Provenza raised his eyebrows.

"No, you idiot," Andy said. "Not for that. I'll tell you later, but I've got something to tell the squad. Explains a hell of a lot about what's been going on with the chief."

"O.K. I'll make sure everybody's in there by the time you get your coffee poured."

"Thanks."

Provenza left the room and Andy got his coffee and followed shortly after.

Andy stood in front of the white board. "O.K., people. The Chief has a possible situation brewing. Her ex-husband, a total asshole named Lamar Tate, got out of prison about six months ago. Drug charges that kept him in there a good while. He's contacted her. I don't know exactly what he's said, but I think we can all guess it wasn't good. Naturally, she's been really on edge. Said she's been having nightmares and all. So she's had a tough time lately. She's feeling sick today and won't be here. But we don't need to let this jerk catch us off guard. Tao, can you look him up with the state of Georgia and make sure he's been checking in with his P.O.?"

"Sure, Flynn. On it."

"Thanks. Gabriel, see if you can get the Atlanta PD to cooperate with us on keeping us abreast of every move Tate makes? And also, ask them to step up their patrols in her parents' neighborhood. I wouldn't put it past this creep to do something to Clay and Willie Rae."

"Will do, Lieutenant," Gabriel answered. He was actually relieved to know the Chief's odd behavior had an explanation.

"Sanchez, talk to whoever you need to talk to around here to get patrols stepped up in the Chief's neighborhood. Ideally, I'd like to see a black and white by her house every 15 minutes. We may not get that, but ask for it, anyway."

"You got it, Lieutenant. If we can get one every five minutes, I'll be even happier. I'd really like to see a uniform posted in front of her house, 24/7."

"Me too, Julio. But we need to know if this jerk gets on a plane, a bus, a train or anything that sends him west of the Mississippi. So Provenza, we need an alert on the passenger lists for everything leaving Atlanta and coming to L.A."

"Absolutely. I'll make some phone calls."

"O.K. We need to stay on top of this, even if we catch a case. We are the Chief's first line of defense. We all know what psycho ex husbands can, and have done to their exes. Every one of us has worked that case. It does not happen to the Chief. Not if we can do _anything_ about it."

A chorus of approval came back and Flynn said, "I'm going to tell Pope what's going on." He left the room and the team looked at each other for a minute until Provenza said, "You heard the man. Let's get this cranked up."

"Chief Pope, thank you for seeing me," Andy said.

"No problem, Lieutenant Flynn. What's going on?"

"It's Chief Johnson. Looks like that ex of hers is out of prison and he's contacted her."

"Oh, my God. That's awful. How did he know where to find her?"

Andy shrugged. "All the department heads' contact info is on the LAPD website. It's been six months or so since he got out. I don't know how long it's been since he called her. But she's having nightmares and it's really been stressing her out. But she finally came out and told me what was going on. So I've got our people doing some preventative work. But I've asked Sanchez to get patrols on her house. I didn't figure you'd mind."

"No. Absolutely not. Does she need a uniform at her home?"

Andy shook his head. "Not immediately, I don't think. Right now, I've got Tao and Gabriel getting Tate located. As long as he's in that part of the country, I think we're all right, as far as that goes, but if he starts west, obviously, we'll want to consider that option."

"Chief Johnson won't like that at all," Pope said.

"I don't think any of us care whether she likes it or not. Sometimes, even Deputy Chief Johnson doesn't get things her own way."

Pope snorted. "Not often, but it does happen occasionally. All right, Lieutenant. Thank you for bringing me up to speed on this. Forewarned is forearmed."

"It sure is." Andy nodded at Pope and left his office.

Pope looked after him. All sorts of rumors had been swirling last week and today, and they all centered around Andy Flynn, Brenda and Sharon Raydor. What was going on in Major Crimes and FID? And now this with Brenda's ex. Pope shook his head. He wondered if assistant chiefs in other cities had these issues.

* * *

><p>Andy got a text on his phone. "Lunch?" It was from Sharon. He thought a minute. Brenda wasn't here, and Sharon might want to know about the situation with Tate. He texted back "sure," and got an address with "meet me."<p>

The restaurant was one of those "ladies who lunch" cafes, and Andy was intensely uncomfortable in these places. Pink wallpaper, too much greenery, tiny, wrought-iron chairs and glass-topped tables always made him feel like the proverbial bull in a china shop.

At least Sharon had snagged one of the booths along the wall and he scowled at her as he seated himself. "Why here?" he said.

She laughed. "I'm sorry, Andy. I just thought we'd do better here since it's not a place cops ever frequent."

Andy looked around. "Looks like nobody does if they're under 85."

"All the better, then. They do have some vegetarian entrees though, so at least you can find something to eat here."

He looked at the menu. "Yeah, O.K." He ordered. "So what's up?"

"Couple of things. I got a disturbing report this morning from an officer, and I heard something concerning Brenda and her ex."

"God, news travels fast around here. Once again, you nailed it, though. Her ex is out of jail and has contacted her."

"Oh, my God. That's enough to send a completely stable person over the edge, let alone Brenda." Sharon shook her head.

"Yeah. So what disturbing report did you get?"

Sharon took a deep breath. "I know what you're going to tell me, but I have to follow up on this, so it's not personal, all right? An officer who was at the scene with the Major Crimes team on Thursday heard Brenda railing into you about something. She said you did not respond, except to walk away, but Brenda followed you and kept after you. The officer said she realized he didn't have all the information about the situation, but didn't feel the chief's actions were warranted, and felt she needed to let me know that one of our chiefs might be creating a hostile work environment. I know you don't want to file a report, but Andy, I had to tell you. You know I did."

Andy rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I told Brenda this morning that people noticed last week. I don't think she believed anyone but the team did, though."

"You talked to her this morning?"

"Yeah, and you don't even want to know how that conversation started. But that's when she told me about her ex. But so you know: she found out about us and this weekend. I don't know how, but she did."

Sharon closed her eyes and shook her head. "Just what I need."

"Don't worry too much. I told her if she said a word to you, or started in on me again, I was putting in for March's position over in Hollywood Division. And I meant it. That got her attention."

She grinned a little ruefully. "I'm sure it did. But, I do have one or two tactics at my disposal. I can always bring up a sexual harassment charge if she starts in on you, and hostile work environment if it's me. Obviously, I'd rather not, but the option is there if I need to use it."

"Sexual harassment?" Andy looked a little insulted.

"It goes both ways, Andy. Any time a superior harasses, threatens or otherwise attempts to punish a subordinate for not providing sexual favors, it's actionable. Gender is not taken into account."

He shook his head. "Can you imagine the hell that would break loose?"

"Well, I don't want to. Although, I have to say, it would be nice, just once, to see Will Pope forced to take disciplinary action against Brenda. She's wormed her way out of trouble so many times..."

Andy took Sharon's hand across the table. "Pull your claws in, sweetheart. They're not attractive." He stroked her palm with his thumb, sending shivers up her spine.

Sharon primly drew her hand back and looked shrewdly at him. "Andy Flynn, it tears me up to say it, but Brenda Leigh Johnson is going to end up catching you, some way, and she so does not deserve you."

Andy winced. "Oooh, that's harsh. You don't want me for keeps, so what difference does it make? Some people would say Brenda and I deserved each other – and not in a good way."

"I don't know, Andy. I've become kind of fond of you over the past few days and I'd rather not see you miserable in a relationship."

"Fond of me? Is that what they're calling it these days?" His grin was roguish.

Sharon kicked him under the table. "That's right. Remind me why we don't need to date."

His grin widened. "So I'm just – what did Provenza say – a booty call?" He had the intense satisfaction of seeing Sharon Raydor blush crimson to her hairline.

"He said that? And you told him about us? Why, for heaven's sake?"

"I had to talk to somebody. And for all his faults, he'll take it to his grave. Nobody will ever find out from him."

Sharon conceded that point, but still... "Booty call. Unbelievable."

"He said it," Andy chuckled, choosing not to remember how it irritated him when Provenza said it. But if he could tease Sharon with it, it was well worth the annoyance.

"Oh God," she said and sat back. "I've just given you six months' worth of ammo. Why can I just not react to your crap?"

"Because it's not in your nature, Sharon."

"Has anyone told you that you're infuriating lately?"

"Not in the last couple of hours," Andy snickered.

"You are, but I still don't want to see you miserable."

"What makes you think I'd be miserable with Brenda?"

She sighed. "I suppose because she makes my life so incredibly complicated and difficult that I cannot imagine how that would not be the case with anyone she's with."

Andy laughed again. "Believe it or not, Sharon, I do appreciate your concern. But the divorce papers haven't been signed, and until they are, there's no 'me and Brenda.' Except at work."

"At least I can take advantage of the time until then."

"Feel free," he said with a grin.

"I find myself torn between wanting to kiss you and kill you," Sharon said.

"Bet I know which one you'll pick," he answered, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Finish your lunch, Lieutenant. I've had enough of you for one day."

"Yes, Captain," he replied, but his grin was pure mischief.


	6. Chapter 6: Countdown

**A/N:** This chapter just took a while. Hope you're still enjoying it and please, please R&R! And if you ever have any ideas, feel free to PM me. I'm always glad to get new ideas!

_Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer."_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6: Countdown<strong>

There was absolutely nothing on daytime TV, Brenda thought, as she surfed through the channels. She finally landed on the food channel where Paula Deen was cooking a pan of macaroni and cheese that looked like a heart attack on a plate. It also looked utterly delicious. Brenda fervently wished she could cook, but in the kitchen, she was hopeless. If she could just manage something really good, one time, she had never known a man to turn down a home-cooked meal. But even something as straightforward as spinach lasagna was completely beyond her culinary skills. She now wished she had paid more attention when her mother – a legendary cook – had tried to teach her a few basics. But if it didn't come out of a can or a box, Brenda was bound to make a mess of it.

"I'll bet that woman can cook," she said to Joel, who was beside her on the sofa. "She probably can cook vegetarian, too. I swear, if she gets Andy Flynn in her web, I'll - I'll – do something. I don't know what, but something. Something _bad_."

The noon news was on and Brenda watched to see if anything interesting had happened, like a shootout or some other crime of the day. Not much on that front, but a commercial caught her attention. It was for a catering business that delivered what it promised were "meals like you wish your mother could make." Brenda could look up a website online and found the business. She was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, since that was pretty much the extent of the available ready-made food in the house. She hadn't been to the supermarket since Fritz left for D.C.

The website featured a menu and she scrolled through the choices. Most interesting of all, they offered cooking classes. Since she was on a self-improvement course now, it might be worth a shot.

The thought of self-improvement made Brenda think. Andy seemed to think she had some issues with drinking. The recycling truck hadn't been by yet. How many bottles of Merlot were in the bin since last Tuesday, she wondered? She went to the recycling bin and started counting. When she finished, she sat flat on the floor in complete shock. There's no way she could have possibly consumed that much wine, all by herself, but there it was. Sixteen empty bottles. Sixteen. She counted them again. Still sixteen. That added up to two bottles a day. At 750 milliliters, Brenda calculated, that was 1,500 milliliters a day, which was a liter and a half, which, if she remembered her math, was a little over a quart and a half. So, a liter and a half a day for seven days, added up to 10 and a half liters, which was probably 11 quarts, which was nearly three gallons. Three gallons of wine in a week? Oh, dear God. Surely she didn't drink that much all the time, did she? But she knew it wasn't much out of the ordinary, especially not since Lamar got out of prison. She must have been in a wine-induced haze nearly every night since Fritz went to D.C. There was no way she could think clearly with all that booze sloshing around inside.

She really wanted to talk to Andy. She wanted to tell him how much she had been drinking and how she hadn't realized it. She instinctively knew he would understand. She was afraid Fritz might not. He might tell her she should have recognized it long ago, should have known she needed to make some changes. But she knew Andy would listen, without judgment.

Brenda dialed his cell.

"Lieutenant Flynn," he answered, obviously not having looked at the ID.

"Andy? I really need to talk to you. Can you come by after work? I'm not trying to just get you here. I've got to tell you something. Please, will you come?"

She sounded really upset. "Has Tate contacted you?" he said.

"No, not lately. I-I just really need to talk to you. Please, Andy. I really need a friend."

He frowned at the pain in her voice. "Sure. I'll see you later, all right? Will you be O.K.?"

"Yeah. And thank you."

"Not a problem," he said and hung up, glad no one was around him in the murder room right then.

* * *

><p>When Brenda answered her door that evening, she was as distraught as Andy had ever seen her.<p>

"Hey, Brenda," he said. "What's up?"

She closed the door and led him to the sofa. "Andy, I did some thinking after you left this morning, about how much I drink. So, I went to the recycling bin and counted the bottles since the truck ran. There were sixteen in the bin."

Andy whistled low. "That's two a day," he said.

She nodded. "I know. And I was thinking how much that is. Nearly three gallons of wine in the past week! I guess some people drink more than that, but that sounds like an awful lot to me."

"Goes beyond social drinking, for sure," he answered.

"Yeah, it does. Andy, I didn't drink that much in college!"

"So did you come to any conclusions?"

"I may not be an alcoholic, but I've been drinking too much. And it really started after Lamar got out of jail and called me. I couldn't deal with the fear, and the anger, and the outrage that he thought he could do this to me again!"

Andy nodded slowly. "Do you want to keep letting him live in your head, rent free? That's what you're doing. You're drinking and he's winning. He's destroying you from 2,000 miles away."

"I didn't think about it like that."

"You never do when you're in it. Not that he's not a credible threat, because, to me, all nutcase exes are credible threats," Andy said. "But, when you live in fear, he wins. And I already told you once today that he wasn't gonna get close to you."

"I believe you, Andy."

"You ought to. If that SOB even twitches, we should know about it." He looked around. "Have you eaten?"

"Not real hungry these days. I had a sandwich about noon."

"And that's it?" He scowled at her. "I'm gonna get you some dinner, and you're gonna eat. Understand me?"

Brenda nodded. "Yes, Lieutenant," she answered.

He grinned and found her phone book. He placed a delivery order and when it arrived, he put the food on the table and motioned her to a chair. "Sit. It's Indian and it's good. I got vegetarian because I'm hungry too. I didn't think you'd mind."

"Of course not," Brenda said, seating herself. "I'm glad you'll even talk to me after the past week."

"Try the poppyseed naan. It's awesome," he said, by way of an answer.

When Brenda had eaten to Andy's satisfaction, he put the leftovers in the fridge and said, "Now, you need to take that lazy cat of yours and both of you hit the sack. _Just_ you and the cat," he clarified.

"I know. I can't help but wish you were with me, though."

Andy sighed and put his arms around her. He kissed the top of her head. "Good night, Brenda. See you tomorrow." He left quickly.

Brenda had some difficulty falling asleep without a lot of Merlot inside her, but finally managed.

* * *

><p>The Major Crimes team all arrived before their chief did the next day. When Andy came in, Tao was fairly fidgeting with impatience.<p>

"Flynn, Georgia Corrections finally got back with me this morning. Tate hasn't checked in with his P.O. this week. He was supposed to be there yesterday, but he didn't get there. He was living in some apartment, and he was gone when the police went to check on him."

Andy slammed his hand on his desk. "Dammit!" he snapped. "He's got nearly a two-day jump on us."

"Nothing on any of the passenger lists so far," Provenza said.

"Well," Sanchez put in, "if he's not flying, and not on a train, then it will take him at least three more days to get here."

"Yeah," Gabriel added, "And if he's not in Atlanta, at least Clay and Willie Rae are safe. That's something. But the Atlanta PD was less than helpful. Said they didn't have the manpower to step up patrols in a neighborhood where there wasn't much crime."

Andy shook his head. "Idiots. So what next?"

"Well," Gabriel said, "the good news is the Birmingham people _were_ helpful. That's the next big city west of Atlanta, so it makes sense that Tate might pass through there. I e-mailed them Tate's mug shots, and turns out, he's wanted in Alabama on a boatload of drug charges under another name, so they're real interested in getting him. They didn't know Tate was the same one they wanted."

"Tate's a busy boy," Flynn said. "Did you get the name he used in Alabama?"

"Yeah. Lamar Cumbeson. I've already given it to Lieutenant Provenza to search for on the passenger lists. And the Birmingham newspaper and television stations have all posted photos on their web sites so people can call if they've seen him."

"Good work, David. So, I guess the next thing we need to do is talk to the Mississippi people and get them alerted."

"Birmingham PD said they had an APB on him with the state troopers, and had already relayed the information to the Mississippi troopers, and Jackson PD. They also sent the alerts north up to Huntsville, also in Alabama, and Nashville, and west to Memphis."

"Those guys are on the ball down there. Wonder if we could get Delk to call them and thank them personally?" Andy said.

"Nice gesture," Provenza said. "Gabriel, you might want to call Houston and Dallas next. We can't spread the net too far out."

"On it, Lieutenant." He picked up his phone.

"All right. We know this guy is on the move," Andy said. "And the smart money says he's headed west, since he has a reason to be in L.A. Pope said he would authorize a uniform for the chief's home, if it was necessary. Until he can get that set up, we don't leave her alone. She told me yesterday when I picked up those files that Howard will be home tomorrow. So we can bring him up to speed then, but one of us or a uniform goes with her every time she's outside this building."

"Where is the chief, now?" Tao asked. "Does anyone know?"

"On her way in, I guess," Andy said. "If she's not here in a few minutes, Gabriel can call her."

"How much do we tell her?" Sanchez asked.

"Everything," Provenza said. "You know she won't be satisfied with less."

Sanchez sighed. Telling the Chief her psycho ex husband was headed west was not his idea of a fun day.

Brenda finally walked into the murder room, to the squad's relief.

Andy steered her to his desk. "Have a seat, Chief. Something's come up."

"What's going on, Lieutenant?" Brenda looked at her crew. Every face radiated concern.

"Chief, Tate didn't check in with his P.O. yesterday. They don't know where he is," Tao said.

Brenda's face went paper white. She brought a hand to her mouth.

"Let me get you some water, Chief," Provenza said. He brought a cup back for her.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," she whispered as she sipped it.

"But now listen, Chief," Flynn continued. "We're on it, O.K.? We've got alerts out for him as far west as Dallas, and we'll extend the net as far as we need to. He's already on every fugitive website Tao knows about. Pope has already authorized a uniform guard for your house, and has ordered one of us to be with you any time you're outside the building. Someone will escort you to your car and to and from your house. You won't be alone. Pope said he'd call Agent Howard when he gets back tomorrow to tell him what's going on, all right? This creep is not gonna get past us."

Brenda nodded. "Thank you, Lieutenant," she said. "Thank you all. I appreciate your efforts. Now, I'd like to be by myself for a few minutes, if you don't mind."

Andy nodded. "Sure, Chief."

Brenda stood, but then leaned on Andy's desk for support. Her legs suddenly didn't want to hold her up.

"Catch her, Flynn!" Provenza yelled, but Andy was already around the side of the desk, and Brenda collapsed in his arms in a dead faint.

"Get the doc up here!" Andy yelled. Provenza got on the phone. Andy carried Brenda to her office, followed by the rest of the crew. He motioned to Sanchez to recline Brenda's desk chair, and Andy tenderly placed her in her chair, while Gabriel propped her feet up in one of the office chairs.

"Hey Tao, you want to get a cold, wet cloth for her head?"

"Sure, Flynn," he answered and disappeared for the break room.

Andy had dragged the other chair around the desk, and sat next to Brenda, holding her hand.

"Should we try to rouse her?" Gabriel said.

Andy looked at her. "No, her breathing is steady. Unless she doesn't come to in a couple or three minutes, probably better to let her come back on her own."

Tao arrived with the cloth and placed it on Brenda's forehead.

The department doctor arrived about the time Brenda's eyes fluttered open. She raised her hand to her forehead and felt the cloth and Andy squeezed her hand gently. She looked at him and smiled.

"Back with us, Chief?" he said, quietly.

"Yeah, I am. Andy, what happened?"

"You just fainted for a couple of minutes, that's all, Chief. But we've got the doc up here to take a look to make sure you're all right."

"Oh, that won't be necessary," she said.

"Yes, Chief, it is necessary," the department doctor said. He had a backpack with him, which Andy guessed had replaced the traditional medical bag. He looked inside and produced a stethoscope. Andy got up and stepped aside, and the doctor checked her pulse, then listened to her heart. He pulled out a blood pressure cuff and got a reading, then took a penlight from his pocket and checked her eyes.

"Pupils are normal and reactive. Blood pressure is 100 over 60, heart rate is 60." He looked up to the anxious faces of her crew. "The chief is fine. She had what's called 'vasovagal syncope.' That basically means fainting from distressing stimuli. It's much more common than people think."

"I've never fainted in my life, doctor," Brenda spluttered, sitting up.

"Stay down a few more minutes until your blood pressure and heart rate come up a little, Chief," he said. "It has to do with the action of the vagus nerve. It's nothing you can control. It just happens, sometimes."

"I just remember you all telling me – the news you had for me. Then, I thought about getting up to come in here. And then, coming to," Brenda said.

"You stood up and then just crumpled," Provenza said.

"Oh my. I didn't hit my head or anything, did I?"

"Nah. I caught you, Chief," Andy said. "You're good."

"That was going to be my next question," the doctor said, "But you answered it, Lieutenant." He turned to Brenda. "Chief, I want you to stay put in that chair for at least ten more minutes. When you're ready to get up, call one of these guys to help you. If you feel the least bit light-headed, sit down for another ten minutes, understand me?"

"I do, but I'll be fine," Brenda said.

"You will be fine, no doubt, but sit for ten minutes before you try to get up."

"We'll sit on her if we have to," Provenza said.

"Works for me," the doctor chuckled. "Let me know if she has any more episodes," he said, and, nodding at Brenda, left the office.

"Well," Brenda said, as soon as the doctor left. "Now maybe we can get back to work." She acted as if to stand, but Andy put his hands on her shoulders from behind, exerting enough pressure to keep her seated.

"Nothin' doing, Chief," he said. "The doc said ten minutes."

"Oh, that's just silly. Let me up, Lieutenant! That's an order!"

"Nope. And I'll get Sanchez to come sit in your lap, if I have to. And you know you're not filing a report on me for disobeying this direct order. Pope would have my ass if I let you get up and you went right back down again. Ten minutes he said, and ten minutes it's gonna be."

The crew filed out of Brenda's office, except for Andy. Sanchez paused in the doorway and said, "Lieutenant, yell if you need me to come and sit on her."

"I'll do it, Julio. Thanks," Andy chuckled.

Brenda scowled at Andy. "How did I get in here, anyway?" she said.

"I carried you," he answered.

"Wish I'd been conscious," she smirked.

Andy shook his head. "I don't. You'd have been fighting me all the way."

"Not necessarily, Andy. I don't _always_ fight you." Andy raised his eyebrows at her and she subsided. "I swear, Andy Flynn. I never thought of you as a wet blanket or a prude."

He rolled his eyes. "Sticks and stones, Chief."

"Has anyone mentioned the dedication on Friday?" Brenda asked.

"What dedication?"

"Oh, Pope said something about it last week. He sent me an e-mail. The city is putting up some kind of monument in a park to honor first responders: police, fire, medics, everybody. So, we're all supposed to be there. Even if we're working a case, we're supposed to drop it and go to the dedication service. It's just another to-do to deal with. I guess the only people who don't have to go are the officers from Traffic, who will probably directing traffic that day, and it's going to be a mess and I don't feel like dealing with it. It's just an excuse for Tommy Delk to put on his uniform, make a speech and look all official." She sighed in frustration.

Andy grinned at her. "Part of the job. I'll check on Provenza and make sure he looks presentable for the cameras."

"I don't hold out much hope for that, but do what you can, anyway. Are my ten minutes up, yet?"

"Yeah. But get up slowly, all right? I don't want you to keel right over again."

"All right. What I'd like to do is put a bullet through Lamar Tate's head. But I can't." She stood.

Andy shook his head. "Somebody is probably gonna do that for you, eventually, Chief. Just give it a little time."

"I wish someone already had. It's not often I'd like to see someone die, but he's the exception."

"I don't blame you." He looked at her. "Steady on your feet?" At her nod, he said, "O.K. Let's get out there and see if we've been able to track him down."

Andy guided Brenda out into the murder room with a light hand on her shoulder. Sanchez immediately gave her his chair and as she seated herself, Andy said, "Anything new?"

Tao shrugged. He looked worried, which was unusual. "I pulled Tate's records. He had six months tacked on to his sentence for intimidating other inmates, and his records from rehab show he did the same thing to other patients. He was kicked out of three programs because of it."

"Well, that's no surprise," Brenda said. "He always loved trying to intimidate people by being badder than they were. He never had friends – just toadies."

"Problem is, it looks like he just dropped off the face of the earth. No bank accounts, so there's no credit card trail, and we haven't been able to find his name or any aliases on anything coming this way," Tao added.

"He could be traveling on a fake ID," Brenda mused. "Any car thefts? I know he stole the occasional car. Don't know if he ever got caught for it, though."

"I'll check on it, Chief," Tao said.

"Of course, one of his drug buddies might have loaned him a car, too. His license has been revoked for years, unless he managed to get another one somewhere." She sighed. "It's a needle in a haystack."

Gabriel looked over at Brenda. "Chief, do you mind me asking? Is the house in yours and Agent Howard's names?"

"Yes, but it's listed as Fritz and Brenda Howard."

"Well, that helps. Makes it a little harder to track you down by your maiden name," he answered.

* * *

><p>After a series of clandestine texts, Andy met Sharon for lunch. This time, it was at a Thai restaurant, where Andy knew cops didn't go. He felt much more at ease here, but Sharon could tell he was perturbed.<p>

"What's going on, Andy?"

"Georgia DOC can't locate Brenda's ex. He didn't check in with his P.O. Police searched his apartment, but he was gone."

Sharon's eyes widened and she took a breath. "That doesn't sound good. I assume you've made all the necessary phone calls."

"Yeah. We've got alerts out now, as far west as Denver and Santa Fe. But there's no paper trail. This guy just dropped off the grid."

"Those are the scary ones. How's Brenda taking the news?"

"We told her this morning. She stood up and passed out."

Sharon looked shocked. "Wow. But I can see why. I have never completely understood what makes abusers tick."

Andy shrugged. "Depends on whether they're just doing the same thing they saw their dads do, if they were abused when they were kids, or what. This guy? He's just bat-shit crazy."

"You have such a way with words, Lieutenant," Sharon chuckled. "But it's an apt description. Is Brenda all right?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Scared, but O.K. Anybody with any sense would be scared. What pisses me off is her husband basically told her the creep is 2,000 miles away and she was silly for worrying."

"I have a difficult time seeing why Agent Howard would say that, especially after her ex contacted her. He should know what these kinds of people will do."

"That's what I thought, but Brenda said he worries about what he can see. Not what's somewhere else."

"He obviously hasn't worked as many domestic violence cases as we have," Sharon said. "Distance is not a factor for these people. Especially not with the Internet and social networking."

"Yeah, the world is gettin' smaller and that's not necessarily a good thing."

As they ate, Sharon asked, "Did Brenda tell you about the memorial service on Friday?"

Andy rolled his eyes. "Yeah. This morning. What a complete waste of time. I mean, it's nice of the city to do and all, but to make it mandatory for the ranking officers of every division to be there? God, that's a zillion people!"

"Tommy Delk loves a show," Sharon said.

"Brenda said essentially the same thing," Andy replied. "So you two actually agree on something. Who'd a thought?"

"Oh, I don't know. I'd say we'd both agree we like sleeping with you," Sharon answered in a low voice. To her delight, Andy's ears turned red and she laughed.

"Don't remind me. This is the most bizarre, screwed-up situation ever. It's a soap opera and I _hate_ soap operas!"

"So a threesome is out of the question, then?" Sharon almost doubled over with laughter at his expression.

"What did you say?" he spluttered.

She sighed, still smiling, "Oh, Andy. It's so hard to shock you, and when I do, it's a red-letter day. I've done it twice in two minutes, so it's a gold-star day for me. The look on your face was just priceless. I couldn't resist. I knew it would poke that sense of moral outrage of yours and it was just too good to pass up."

Andy scowled at her. "Don't say stuff like that. Takes years off my life."

"I hear getting scared once in a while is healthy. So you should be good."

"For the next ten years. At least."

"And you think life with Brenda Johnson would be more tranquil? Have I ever got news for you, then. Dinner tonight?"

"I thought we weren't dating."

"We're not. We're eating a lot."

Andy chuckled. "How about tomorrow night? Howard will be home and there's no way she'll call me for anything. And I'd just rather keep you two completely separate."

Sharon gave him a wry grin. "O.K., but text me if you change your mind."

"I will."

When Sharon got back to her office, she thought about Andy. In love with him? No. Not at all. But she found she liked him a great deal, and the kind of heat he could generate in her blood was easy to get used to. She had also figured out his occasional disregard for regulations wasn't because he wanted to hurt a suspect. No, he just wanted to get people who hurt other people off the streets. Sharon fervently hoped Andy Flynn never got those big hands on Lamar Tate. She saw what he did to Bob Harris when Harris attacked him. Sharon had a feeling Andy would be much more – creative – if defending Brenda.

Brenda's office door was open and Andy heard her answer her cell. "Oh, hey, Fritzie. Oh, you're home early! That's nice. I've missed you, too. So has Joel." At that, Andy and Provenza looked at each other. Andy rolled his eyes. "Why yes, dinner tonight sounds just wonderful. We don't have a case, so I'll even be home early. All righty. I'll see you later! Bye!"

"Sounds like she's glad he's home, Flynn," Provenza muttered.

"Honestly? I hope she is," Andy answered. "My life would get a hell of a lot less complicated." So he was definitely free tonight. He sent a text to Sharon: "FBI home early. Still dinner?"

The reply: "Sure. My place, 7. Anything besides dinner?"

Andy smirked as he texted: "Lady's choice."

Her answer: "Bring your toothbrush, then."

Andy grinned to himself as he clicked off his cell.

* * *

><p>When Andy got to her place, Sharon welcomed him inside and he could smell something cooking. "Smells good," he said.<p>

"No big deal. Just spanakopita. Ever had it?"

Andy thought. "Little spinach and cheese things?"

"In phyllo dough. Yeah. My grandmother was Greek and I grew up eating those. I love them."

"Fine with me," he said.

"Good. Well, they've got some baking time left." She put her hands on Andy's face. "So I'd like to say hello again." She pulled his head to hers and kissed him softly. She stepped back then, and said, "I could get used to that."

"Is that so?" Andy replied. Sharon wasn't wearing those four-inch heels and he was always surprised that her head came just about up to his shoulder. So, he lifted her up to sit on the table in the foyer. He twined the fingers of his left hand in her hair, while his right hand went to the small of her back. His mouth came to hers, hot, insistent and sensual. He felt Sharon wrap her legs around him and she pressed herself against him.

"You sure you want to share me with Brenda?" he said wickedly as he kissed up and down her neck.

Sharon squirmed. "You pig. No, I want your undivided attention."

"I kind of thought so," he answered, and busied himself in kissing her.

Sharon finally succeeded in taking a breath. "I need to check on dinner."

"Sure," Andy said and lowered her to the floor.

Andy followed Sharon into the kitchen and she checked on their dinner and produced a green salad from the fridge. A pot of lemon rice was already resting on the stove. She took the baking pan out of the oven and said, "Help yourself."

"Looks great," he said.

After they ate, Sharon brought out cups of coffee and when she finished hers, she went around the table to Andy and sat on his lap, her legs on either side of his, facing him.

"Can I help you?" he teased.

"You sure can," she answered, unbuttoning his shirt.

"Want to take this somewhere more comfortable?"

"I don't think I want to wait," Sharon said.

Andy laughed. "How about that mile-wide sofa of yours? Just a couple of steps."

"If you insist," she said.

"Yeah, I think I do." Andy put his arms around Sharon and stood. She hung on and he swung her into his arms and carried her to the sofa. He leveraged himself over her and kissed her hungrily.

When Andy kissed her like that, Sharon's brain stopped working. All that registered was what he was doing to her. She just knew she wanted more of what he was doing. His hands were on her body, undoing her blouse, unclasping her bra and then, before she even had time to get her top completely off, his mouth was on her breasts, teasing them. Sharon was doing her best to get Andy's shirt off so she could feel his skin under her hands, and it finally hit the floor.

When Andy touched Sharon, he could lose himself in her body and not think about Brenda. He didn't want to think about her being in bed with the FBI guy, so he wanted the warm forgetfulness Sharon's body offered. He knew they were each getting a physical need fulfilled, even though he couldn't have what he truly wanted.

Sharon's flowing skirt just got pushed up around her hips. She didn't bother to take it off, just as she unfastened Andy's jeans and suggested he not worry about getting them off, either. So they ended up in a panting, half-dressed heap on her sofa.

Andy said, "Were you like desperate, or what? Too many hormone pills this morning or something?"

Sharon narrowed her eyes at him and tugged at his chest hair. He yelped and she said, "Poor word choice, Andy. No, I just found myself thinking about this past weekend all day long, and I wanted you again."

He grinned. "Nice to know someone wants me around."

"Especially when you can be such a pill," Sharon shot back.

Andy ran his hand down her bare thigh and she squirmed. "And you're never a pill, are you, Sharon? Next time you have to open an investigation on Major Crimes, I just want you to think about last weekend in Monterey. Maybe it'll change your perspective a little."

Sharon was actually a little afraid of that happening. "You can count on me to retain my objectivity."

"Is that so?" He kissed her again. "I'll remember you said that."

"How do I stand you, Andy Flynn?" Sharon said.

"Dunno," he answered. "I've asked myself that. I guess, in this area, anyway, we're just, well, compatible." His eyes twinkled wickedly at her.

"You're still a pig."

"And you love it." He nuzzled her hair and his mouth close to her ear, he said, "Oink."

Sharon had to laugh at that. "Incorrigible."

"That's a good way to put it," Andy answered.

Lying on the sofa with Sharon, kissing her and touching her was a fun way to spend an evening, but they both had to work the next day.

Andy kissed Sharon good night. "See you in the morning. Thanks for dinner. It was great, in case I didn't tell you."

"You told me, but you're welcome." She sighed. "Get outta here before I ask you to spend the night."

He grinned at Sharon, kissed her again and left.

As he drove home, Andy really hoped Sharon didn't have any feelings for him beyond liking his body and being a friend. He smacked the steering wheel in frustration. Why couldn't he want Sharon and not Brenda? But there it was. Something had to resolve itself, sooner or later.

* * *

><p>Brenda lay awake. It was 2 a.m. She and Fritz had a nice dinner and of course, when they got home, he had definitely been in the mood. It was nice, as it generally was, but the whole time, all she could think about was Andy's hands and mouth, and how his body felt next to hers. She tried to remember the last time she had really wanted Fritz to make love to her. It had been a long, long time. She turned over, her back to him, and wished it was Andy lying next to her. Why couldn't she just love her husband? Fritz wasn't a bad guy, and he did care about her. Why did Andy Flynn have to attract her beyond any measure of good sense? Why did she always find herself wanting what she didn't need and couldn't have? The only thing was, she did need Andy. She needed him more than she had ever needed anyone.<p> 


	7. Chapter 7: Zero

**A/N:** And the next chapter. Be prepared for more twists. I've been doing some foreshadowing, if you've noticed. Reading the reviews really does help keep me motivated, and I appreciate each one. So, please R&R!

_Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer."_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7: Zero<strong>

Andy peered in the mirror and checked his collar brass. His rank insignia were straight and lined up against the points. He stepped back to see if his shirt buttons lined up with the buckle on his belt. The "gig line," it was called. Even if he had to carry his suit to work, it was still easier than trying to make sure Provenza looked presentable. Even Louis Provenza couldn't screw up his uniform too much. The top brass had decreed the ranking officers should appear in uniform at the memorial service. So, Andy had to get his blues cleaned and it was always a headache to pin all the brass hardware back on. He checked to make sure the top of his marksmanship medal lined up against the shirt pocket. If he was going to wear his blues, they were going to look like they were supposed to look. He grabbed his cap and grimaced. He hated wearing anything on his head except for his Dodgers cap. Made him look like a dork.

The team had assembled in the murder room and they were on edge. No one had heard a word from Lamar Tate since Monday and it was Friday. It was a safe bet he was in L.A., or nearly so, and Andy was worried. Tate had managed to slip through all the lookouts and all points bulletins. It bothered him that Tate hadn't shown up somewhere, and it was even more worrying that he hadn't contacted Brenda. It made Andy suspicious that something bad was about to happen. His cop instinct was well honed over 25 years and he sensed something was in the wind.

Brenda came into the murder room, followed by the FBI guy. He was wearing a sharp black suit and looked very official. Andy had to turn his head as Brenda whisked by in her blues. She just looked too good in them. They looked so much better in their blues than the guys ever would. Skirts and those funny little caps sure weren't practical for beat cops who had to chase bad guys, but they hid a lot more than the slacks. He shook his head, attempting to dispel the image from his mind.

"Good morning," Brenda said, coming out of her office. "I guess we're all ready to go. We probably need to double up as much as we can to decrease the amount of traffic, so let's go four to a car, please. Detective Gabriel, you and Detective Sanchez can go with me and Agent Howard. Lieutenant Flynn, why don't you, Lieutenant Provenza and Lieutenant Tao and Commander Taylor all go together?"

"Sure, Chief," Andy said. "C'mon guys. Let's go while we can still get out of the parking deck."

* * *

><p>When they arrived at the park, Chief Delk had places assigned for all the divisions and their officers. Major Crimes was close to the front, and the crew milled around, speaking to other officers. Andy saw Sharon on the other side of the podium and grinned at her. She returned the smile. They had, by mutual agreement, decided they were better able to stay friends if they weren't sleeping together. While it had been fun, they both knew that keeping that kind of relationship on a strictly friendly level was easier if sex wasn't involved. And Andy really preferred having Sharon as a friend to having her as an enemy, so he was fine with the arrangement.<p>

Something at the perimeter of the park caught Andy's eye. He looked past the monument and the line of uniforms, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Then, there it was again. Movement in the trees just beyond. He knew civilians weren't supposed to be in the area, but rather than cause a commotion, he casually wandered to the edge of the group, speaking to officers he knew, seemingly just one of the crowd, not appearing to be suspicious of anything. He saw the movement again, farther down the way. Someone did not want to be seen, obviously. Andy considered what to do. He knew he needed to get behind the individual, to have the tactical advantage. So he slipped into the trees and made his way around to where he last saw the guy. He thought about calling in backup, but didn't want to attract too much attention. It might spook the guy and he wouldn't find out what was going on.

The memorial service had started and Tommy Delk was laying down his usual line of crap. Then it was time for the fire chief and the head of Emergency Services and then the mayor. About 30 minutes had passed and Andy was barely keeping the guy in his sights. He was moving like a hunter, which told Andy he was up to no good. He just didn't know who the target was. The wooded area was fairly large and Andy was trying to keep the guy in sight, while keeping himself hidden.

The service finally ended and officers were talking, catching up with other friends they hadn't seen in a while. Suddenly, Andy saw the guy stop and take a shooting stance. He got as close as he could, as quickly as he could. He could see the man's high-powered hunting rifle and scope now. He looked beyond the trees and saw Brenda and Agent Howard walking across an open area, with no one very near them. Tate. It had to be. Andy drew his weapon. "Drop your weapon, scumbag!" he yelled. The man flinched, but squeezed off a shot anyway.

Andy had always heard about life-changing events happening in slow motion, but had never experienced it until now. It was like everything was moving at a snail's pace, but every motion was crystal clear in his brain. He fired once and hit the shooter in the shoulder. The man fell and Andy was on top of him, knee in his back, cuffing him. That done, Andy immediately checked the rifle and made it safe. Events at the memorial were just on the periphery of his consciousness until he heard Brenda screaming. Life suddenly slammed into real-time. He looked up. Gabriel and Sanchez were holding her, while she kicked and screamed and another knot of officers was huddled around another figure, Agent Howard, he figured, while at least ten other officers were headed right toward him.

Andy stood. "I've got him!" he yelled, jerking the man up by his cuffed hands and collar. He looked at him. "Well, well. If it isn't Lamar Tate," he said.

"Do you know this man, Lieutenant?" asked one officer. "He probably just killed Agent Fritz Howard!"

"Is that so?" Andy said. "For killing a federal agent, you just got a one-way ticket to Leavenworth, you little SOB." He got on his phone to Provenza, the ghost of an idea in his mind. "Get a line of blues around the chief. Don't let her see the body." Provenza acknowledged Andy and marshaled the uniforms around his chief.

Andy tossed Tate's weapon to another uniform and dragged him to the circle of officers. They let them through and Andy pushed Tate into the center of the crowd. He could see Pope and Delk trying to get through - without success. "This is the asshole who took the shot!" he said so the uniforms could hear. "He's Deputy Chief Johnson's nutcase druggie ex. He thinks he's a big man! He's so big he had to use our chief as a punching bag. The feds are gonna get him and save the taxpayers of California the cost of a trial, so they can have him." He turned to Sanchez and Gabriel, who were still holding on to Brenda. "Deputy Chief, he's all yours. Short of killing him, have at. He's cuffed and can't fight back. But put your gloves on."

Brenda suddenly went still. Andy nodded at David and Julio and they released her. Methodically, she reached to her utility belt and extracted her leather gloves. She drew them over her hands and went to stand in front of Tate. "I don't care what you did to me. But you called my Mama and scared her. She's not young anymore, and making my Mama live in fear is a bad thing to do." Brenda's voice was low, but every officer could hear her. Suddenly, she backhanded him on both sides of his face, and followed it up with a nasty right hook to his kidneys and a knee to the groin. He dropped to the ground, screaming.

"And you probably killed my husband. I want to be there when they put the needle in your worthless arm, but until then, remember that the woman you beat to a pulp is bigger and badder than you are." Then, she spit in Tate's face. "Scrape him up, Lieutenant, and hand him over to the FBI. I've got a funeral to plan."

Delk was motioning to Sharon Raydor, who saw the whole thing. "Captain, I want your report on this on my desk in the morning!" he snapped.

"A report on what?" she said.

"On this officer assault! We can't have this kind of vigilante action! Not in front of all these cameras!"

"I didn't see a thing and neither did they, Chief," Sharon coolly replied. "All I saw was a domestic violence case being speedily resolved."

"What about the department's image, Captain?" Delk was beside himself.

Sharon narrowed her eyes at the man. It was a cliché, but she was going to say it, if they took her badge because of it. She said lightly, but softly, "Frankly, Chief Delk, I don't give a damn." She turned on her heel and walked away.

He stood, watching Raydor's retreating figure in open-mouthed astonishment. Pope stood next to him. "Let it go, Tommy," he said. "This guy's going to the feds and the cameras were all on Agent Howard. Tate's not our problem."

Andy caught up with Sharon, "Captain, I fired at Tate and hit him in the shoulder. You want my weapon?"

She shook her head. "As far as I'm concerned, he's the FBI's problem now. I don't care what they do to him. That shot never happened." She touched Andy on the arm. "Go see about your chief, Andy. She needs you."

Andy gave her a half smile. "You're a good woman, Sharon. I'm sorry about all - this."

"Don't be. Like you, I'd rather have you as a friend than an enemy. I don't have too many friends in the department. Go on to Brenda."

He nodded and hurried back through the crowd to his chief. She was insisting to Sanchez and Gabriel that they allow her to see Fritz's body.

Provenza said to Andy, "That was a large caliber bullet in that rifle. It damn near blew the back of his head off. She doesn't need to see that."

Andy took her by the shoulders. "Chief, you don't need to see his body. You don't want that image walking around in your head, I promise you."

"You saw him shoot Fritz?" she said.

"I had my weapon on him, but he got the shot off before I could get him. I'm so sorry, Brenda. I am so sorry. I should have gotten him in the trees when I had a chance, but I didn't. I'm sorry. It's my fault."

Brenda shook her head. "You're a police officer, Lieutenant, and you had to act on your training. If you hadn't been there, we might not have caught him." She wrinkled her brow. "Andy, what in the world am I going to do?" She started sobbing. Andy put his arms around her and her squad gathered around her, each with a hand on her shoulder, or her back, or the top of her head. Other officers stood in respectful silence as the coroner's van arrived and loaded Fritz's body in the back.

Pope and Delk finally made their way through the uniforms. The Major Crimes crew stepped back from Brenda, but Andy kept one arm around her shoulder and scowled at Delk.

Pope took her hand. "Brenda, I am so very sorry. I can't even tell you."

"Thanks Will," she sniffed.

"Chief Johnson," Delk began, "please accept the condolences of the department and from me, personally. If there's anything the LAPD can do to help you through this, we will. I think someone from the FBI is waiting to speak with you, if you feel like talking right now."

"Thank you, Chief Delk. I can talk with the agent."

"Fine. Here he is."

A slightly older man approached Brenda. He had a kind face. He extended his hand. "Deputy Chief, I'm Agent Carl Bowling. Please accept my condolences. I'm the representative appointed to help you coordinate your husband's arrangements. Here's my card. Can we meet at your home this afternoon?"

"Of course," Brenda said.

"Fine. The FBI will handle notifying his other family members, so you don't have to concern yourself with that."

"All right," she said.

Andy looked at Brenda. Her face was expressionless. He knew she wasn't really hearing anything the agent was saying. "Agent Bowling," he said. "I think Chief Johnson is still very much in a state of shock."

"I understand, Lieutenant. I'll go over all this again later today with the chief. Can we say four o'clock?"

Andy nodded. "We'll have her there."

"I'll see you then."

Andy looked at Brenda. "C'mon, Chief. It's time to go home. You want to ride with me?" She nodded. "Give me your car keys," he said. She handed them to him. He handed them to Gabriel. "Bring her car, all right?"

"Sure thing, Lieutenant." Gabriel was still in shock, himself. He couldn't believe the squad had let down the chief like this. They should have had their hands on Tate days ago.

"Chief, give Provenza your cell phone," Andy said. Brenda dug in her purse and found it and gave it to the lieutenant. "Call her parents, will you?" Provenza nodded.

Andy walked Brenda to his car and she got in. She still hadn't said a word. Andy didn't try to force her to talk. He just drove to her house. When they walked inside, Brenda looked around.

"What am I going to do with his things?" she said.

"Don't worry about that right now, Brenda. Why don't you go change your clothes into something more comfortable than that uniform?"

"Where's Joel?" she asked.

Andy looked around. "Asleep on a kitchen chair. He's fine. Go get changed, all right?"

"What should I wear?"

Andy realized Brenda wasn't capable of organized thinking at this point, and actually wished Sharon Raydor was here to help him. She had been through this. So, he led Brenda to the sofa and seated her. He got on his cell. "Sharon? Hey. She's not good. Can you come over here? There's not a woman on the squad and she needs a woman around. Thanks." He turned to Brenda. "Brenda, don't hit me, but I called Sharon Raydor to come over here. I know how you two feel about each other, but right now, she's the closest thing you've got to a female friend, all right?"

Brenda shrugged. "Why should I care?"

Andy shook his head. He heard Gabriel turn into the drive with Brenda's car. When David came in, Andy said. "O.K., Chief. Gabriel's here. I'm going to go change clothes, all right? I'm here, though." She nodded.

"Raydor's coming over here. I think she can actually help, as wild as that sounds," Andy said to David.

"I understand where you're coming from," David answered, looking worriedly at Brenda, who was just sitting motionless, on the edge of the sofa.

"I'm gonna go get my clothes out of my car and get out of this uniform," Andy said.

David nodded. "The crew is on their way over. Taylor said his people would handle anything that came up."

"Good for Taylor," Andy replied and went outside for his suit. He got his clothes and came back inside. David was sitting next to Brenda on the sofa, holding her hand. She still had that blank look. He went into the front bedroom to change. He decided the jacket and tie were not strictly necessary, so he settled for his shirt and trousers.

Tao, Sanchez and Provenza were coming in as he got back to the den. Andy knew Mike Tao was especially upset, since he had not been able to keep tabs on Tate's whereabouts. "Lisa's coming over later with some food," he said.

"Thanks, Mike," Andy answered. "We all appreciate it."

Provenza put Brenda's cell on the table. He sat on her opposite side. "Chief, I called your mama and daddy, O.K.? They'll be here tomorrow."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," she whispered.

The crew meandered around aimlessly, wondering what to do, when a knock came on the door. Tao answered it. "Captain Raydor," he said. "Please come in."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," she said. "How is the chief?" Tao shrugged. "I understand. I've been there." Sharon went to the sofa. "Brenda? Why don't we go get your clothes changed?" Sharon took Brenda's hand and raised her to her feet. "Come on. I know that uniform isn't comfortable." She started to lead Brenda to the master bedroom, then thought better of it. "Come on in here into the guest room and I'll get some clothes for you, all right?"

"O.K."

Sharon went to Brenda's room and picked out a top and yoga pants. She took these back to the front room, where Brenda still stood. Sharon shook her head. She had been very much the same when Cole died. She was just numb. "Put these on, Brenda. You'll be more comfortable." Brenda took the clothes.

"Sharon, did you see my husband? After, you know…" her voice trailed off.

Sharon shook her head. "No, Brenda, I didn't. I liked and respected Fritz. I didn't want that to be how I thought about him."

"Sanchez and Gabriel wouldn't let me over there to see him," Brenda said.

"You didn't want to see him, Brenda. You don't want that memory. Take my word for it."

"He was smiling at me right before he was shot," she said.

"Then hold on to _that_ memory. That's one worth keeping."

"I will."

Sharon smiled at Brenda. "Change your clothes, all right?" She remembered in the hours after Cole's death, someone almost had to tell her when to breathe.

Brenda nodded and started unbuttoning her blouse. When she changed, Sharon led her back into the living room and she sat again on the sofa. "Just let her be," Sharon said. "She'll let you know when she's ready to talk or whatever. She looked at Andy and nodded toward the front door. He followed her outside.

"I'm worried about her, Sharon," he said.

"I know. But I was the same way. Best thing is not to force her. Let her come around to everything at her own pace. She does not need to be left alone tonight, though. I can stay with her, if you need me to."

"That might be a good idea. I guess we'll see."

"You might want to keep her out of the master bedroom for a few hours, if possible. And don't let her sleep in there, if you can help it. Not for a few nights, anyway. That's where she'll miss Fritz the most. What about her parents?"

"Coming in tomorrow. Why didn't I just shoot that jerk when I had the opportunity? He was right _there_! It would have been an easy shot!"

"Did you know he was armed beforehand?"

"Not for certain. He had his rifle on a sling and it was turned away from me. Had a camouflage stock and barrel. I couldn't see it in the trees. I didn't see it clearly until he brought it up to shoot. I just saw this movement in the trees and it looked suspicious. So I got over there and tracked him until he made the shot."

She nodded in understanding. "You did the only right thing to do, Andy. Here's why. You couldn't just take a shot at him, not knowing for sure if he was armed. He could have just been some homeless person or a teen, wanting to get a look at what was going on. Since you didn't know if he was armed, or if he was, what kind of weapon he had, you couldn't risk rushing him, which might have caused him to start spraying the crowd. If he'd been carrying a semi-automatic weapon, he could have killed or wounded dozens of people. As it was, he had time for one shot. Unfortunately, that was a fatal, but Andy, it could have been so much worse."

"I should have called for backup," Andy said.

"Again, no. You know you have to assume a suspect is armed to the teeth, probably with an assault weapon. If he had been and had started shooting… You weren't even sure exactly what you were dealing with until you were what, 20 feet from him?"

"Something like that."

"So what else could you have done?" She spread her hands. "Andy, you're in AA. Remember what it says in the Serenity Prayer about being granted the serenity to accept what you can't change? You couldn't have changed a thing you did. You went with your training as a cop. That's what you were supposed to do. And I have to say, throwing Lamar Tate handcuffed into a crowd of uniforms for Brenda to deal with was inspired. Someone should have done it a long time ago."

"I figured Delk would be on you about an FID investigation."

"He was and I told him I didn't see a thing. Pope must have backed me up because I haven't heard another word about it."

Andy grinned for the first time since before the memorial service started. "I can't believe you did that, but I'm glad you did."

"If he had been in LAPD custody, I probably would have. No choice. But he was going straight to the feds, and I knew they weren't going to care, since he had just killed one of their own. Why put more on a fellow officer than she needs? Besides, he deserved that and more, the… Well, I really can't come up with a name that's vile enough for him."

"Need some suggestions?" Andy said.

"I think we both get the idea." Sharon shook her head. "I really do feel sorry for Brenda. This is going to be tough for her."

Andy nodded. "Yeah."

Sharon looked shrewdly at him. "But how convenient for you, huh?"

His mouth dropped open. "For the love of God, Sharon! I didn't want him to _die_!" he exclaimed. "I wasn't going to get between her and her husband. I can't believe you said that," he huffed.

"O.K., O.K. It was tactless, I admit. Maybe even tasteless. But I know you, Andy. You have to admit it's crossed your mind."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, human, right? But I kicked it out of my head. But I don't think even Provenza would have said that. Not right now."

Sharon grimaced. "So I have less tact than Louis Provenza. Ouch. That hurts. I'm just asking you to be careful. Even if Brenda reaches out to you, and I'm fairly sure she will, and soon, keep a little distance. Her emotions are so raw right now. Just be careful, O.K.?"

"I will, and I do appreciate your concern. Really, I do." A van pulled into the drive. "That's Lisa Tao. She's probably got enough food for the whole department. I'll go give her a hand."

Sharon nodded. "All right." She watched Andy go to the van and sighed. Well, it was her own fault. She never should have invited him to Monterey. It was wonderful, but she should have known better. And her remark was certainly tactless, but she just had to say it. She should have more compassion, if nothing else. But this was a completely messed up day.

Andy carried a picnic basket in one hand and dragged a large cooler on wheels behind him. Lisa Tao carried a crockpot and had three plastic bags hanging from one wrist. She stopped when she saw Sharon. "Captain Raydor, nice to see you again. Wish it were under better circumstances."

"Definitely. Need some help?"

"No, Andy and I have it. Thank you, though."

As Andy and Lisa trooped inside, Brenda looked up. People were bringing food in. That made Fritz's death official. She rose from the sofa and went to Lisa. "Thank you," she said.

Lisa patted her shoulder. "You're welcome, Brenda. I'm so sorry."

Brenda nodded and started walking towards the bedrooms. "I need to lie down." David was at her side. "O.K., Chief. Come in here," he said, steering her toward the guest room. She sat on the bed and he closed the blinds and drapes.

"Where's Joel? I want him," she said.

"Sure, Chief." He poked his head out of the room. "Hey Flynn? You want to get the Chief's cat? She wants him."

"Yeah." The marmalade tabby liked him. Andy found the cat and picked him up. "C'mon, cat," he said. Andy took him inside the room and deposited him on the bed. He immediately made for Brenda's lap and she held him to her.

"Thank you, David," she said. "Can I speak to Lieutenant Flynn for a moment?"

"Sure, Chief, David answered and left the room.

"Close the door for a minute, Andy." He did and went to sit beside Brenda. She leaned against him and he put his arm around her shoulders. "Andy, I didn't want this to happen. Not like this."

"I know you didn't. Nobody did."

"And I was actually glad to have him home. Even though things had changed, have been changed, I didn't want to tell him. You know, he really was good to me."

"I know, Brenda. I didn't hate the man. Jealous of him, yeah. But he was a good guy and a good cop. That's what matters."

"I miss him already, Andy. I wasn't in love with him anymore, but I miss him."

"Brenda, how long were you guys together? Sure you miss him. I'd wonder what was wrong with you if you didn't miss him."

A knock sounded on the door. It opened and a man peeked around the corner. It was the department chaplain. "May I come in?"

"Sure, Father Sullivan," Andy said. The man came in and Andy stood. "I'll let you two talk," he said.

"I'm still praying for you, Andrew."

"Keep on, Father. God knows I need it," he said and closed the door.

Andy went into the den and collapsed on the sofa. He rubbed his face. "What a hell of a day," he said.

"That's the understatement of the century," Provenza said. "But you did the right thing, Andy. You didn't know what, or if, that scuzz was carrying, so you had to go on your instincts."

"Yeah, I keep telling myself that," Andy answered.

"Don't beat yourself up, Andy," Sanchez put in. "It's what any of us would have done."

"I shoulda just tackled him off the bat," Andy answered.

"No way," David said. "What if he'd been some kid just sneaking a joint or something? You had no idea what you were walking into. You did the right thing, O.K.?"

Andy shook his head in resignation. "Whatever."

A little while later, Father Sullivan came out of Brenda's room and told Andy he would be back at four, when the FBI agent arrived, to help Brenda with the funeral plans. Andy waited a while, and peeked into the room. Brenda was asleep.

* * *

><p>When Brenda woke, she still didn't have much to say, but went right to Andy on the sofa and sat close to him. The other squad members assumed it was because Andy had been the one to nail Tate.<p>

Tao apparently had appointed himself the official doorman, and answered the door when Agent Bowling arrived. He greeted the assembled company pleasantly, and spoke to Brenda.

"Chief Johnson, do you think you're up to discussing arrangements? Father Sullivan said he would be back. I'm sure he'll be along in just a few minutes."

Brenda nodded. "Yes, Agent Bowling, I suppose so. But please, call me Brenda."

"Certainly, Brenda. And you call me Carl. Now, there are certain protocols to be followed when a member of the FBI falls in the line of duty. Since your husband attended the service in his official capacity as FBI liaison to the LAPD, he was very much on duty. And we want to honor his service appropriately."

Brenda listened as Carl talked, while Gabriel and Andy each took notes. When he asked whether any family members would like to speak, Brenda sighed. "Well, Fritz's sister is an ordained minister."

"In what denomination?" Carl asked.

"Um, well, I don't know, exactly. How would you describe Claire's religious preferences?" she asked at large.

"Our Lady of the Flakes," Andy deadpanned.

Father Sullivan had arrived by this time and hid a grin with difficulty at that. "So, not an ordained member of, shall we say, a mainstream denomination?"

"Nothin' mainstream about that chick," Andy replied. "Total box of corn flakes."

Even Brenda had to smile at that. "Be nice, Andy."

"No way. When you got married, that woman ran me over after she caught the bouquet. Nearly threw my back out!"

Brenda managed a chuckle. "I'd forgotten about that, Andy. But you're right. She caught the bouquet and then tackled you like a Georgia defensive lineman at the Auburn game."

"My sacroiliac hasn't forgotten," he groused. Inwardly, he was pleased that he had made Brenda smile, though. He'd tell self-deprecating stories all day if it made her feel a little better.

* * *

><p>When Brenda's parents arrived late the next afternoon, she had managed to pull herself into some kind of organized thinking, but was still not with the world completely. Sharon Raydor, to her complete surprise, had been a comforting presence in the house the night before. Brenda remembered hearing that her husband had died, but had no clue what happened. Sharon told her and Brenda said, "Then I guess I'm blessed that Fritz didn't suffer. It was pretty much instantaneous."<p>

Sharon nodded. "It is a blessing, Brenda. It may seem small now, but you'll appreciate it down the road."

Brenda put her hands in her lap. "How much time have we wasted hating each other? And for what? All that competition for cases seems so – petty – now, doesn't it?"

"Death has a way of putting life into clear perspective," Sharon said.

When Willie Rae hit the house, everything suddenly fell into place. She ordered people around like a Marine drill instructor and Andy realized, ruefully, where Brenda got it. He brought their luggage in, and Willie Rae said, "Thank you so much, Lieutenant Flynn. I don't know what Brenda Leigh would have done without all of her friends around her."

Andy smiled. "Call me Andy, ma'am. Please. And we care about Brenda, so we want to do whatever we can."

"Well, Andy, you're precious, is what you are. Bless your hearts, you've all just rallied around her. I can't tell you how much it means to me to know my daughter has this kind of support at this time." Willie Rae patted Andy's hand and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.

Clay put his arm around her. "It's all right, sugar," he said. "Go see about Brenda Leigh." She nodded and went to the back of the house.

Clay turned to Andy. His face was stern. "Andy, we're mighty glad you nailed that sonofabitch. We're sorry he had to take a life, but he won't be bothering my little girl anymore. If I hadn't been afraid of spending the rest of my life in jail, I'd have killed him a long time ago. Saved everybody a lot of heartache. But I never could figure out how to commit the perfect murder."

"No such thing," Andy said with a grin. "And he's not worth 25 to life in the pen."

"Hell no, he's not," Clay said. "He ain't worth the powder and shot it'd take to blow him to kingdom come. He ain't hardly worth the cost of executing his sorry ass, but somebody was bound to send him to hell, and I'm just as glad it's the U.S. Government."

"No chance of getting out of it there."

Clay shook his head. "None a'tall. But Willie Rae's right. You people have been awful good to her. Provenza said she hasn't been left alone the whole time. And that's good. Andy," here Clay leaned in confidentially. "I want to tell you something about my little girl. She don't do too well by herself. I mean, she can get along, live independently, and all, of course, but she's just one of these people who needs somebody. Willie Rae, now that tough old bird? I know she loves me, but when I kick off, I don't have a worry in the world about how she'll get along. But Brenda Leigh? She's strong, but she don't deal well with change. She hates it, in fact. I guess you picked that up when you all had to move your offices. But she needs somebody strong, too. She second-guesses herself all the time, and needs somebody to support her. So you be good to her, Andy. But I know I don't have to worry about that."

Andy looked at Clay in shock. "Sir? Not sure what you're talking about."

Clay shook his head. "Now that's the right answer to give, son, but you're eat up with it over Brenda Leigh. I've never mentioned it to the wife, because she was so set on Brenda marrying Fritz. He was a good boy. Don't get me wrong. He was good to my baby and I liked him real well. He loved her. But so do you. It sticks out all over you. You hide it pretty good, but I've known it for years. And I'm startin' to think she loves you, too. At Christmas, every time you walked into the room, she followed you with her eyes. And when you were attacked, Lordy was she upset! She called her mama just wailin' and carryin' on about it. You never heard such. I don't know what the situation was between her and Fritz, but I know she hasn't been happy for a while. Willie Rae says she knows Brenda Leigh better than I do. But I don't think she does. I know when my baby ain't happy. But maybe you can change that. You're a strong man, you're even more ornery than she is – and believe me, that's an advantage – and you know how her mind works. And most men would run off screaming when they found that out. But you didn't, and that tells me everything I need to know. So when she's ready, you go ahead, Andy. You've got my blessing now."

And he'd wondered where Brenda's ability to read people came from, Andy thought. "Good to know, sir."

"It's Clay, if you please. And the Braves are on now. Reckon Brenda gets a TV station that'll pick up the game?"

Andy chuckled. "I think so. I'll get you set up." He turned on the television and found the sports channel carrying the baseball game.

Clay parked on the sofa and made himself comfortable. "Don't guess you're a Braves fan, are you?"

Andy smiled. "Sorry. Lifelong Dodgers fan. Like my Dad."

"Oh, well. Can't have everything. We'll teach you to like SEC football, though."

"Last two national champs were SEC teams, right?" Andy said, glad he had actually paid attention.

"Yep. Alabama in 2009 and Auburn in 2010. If you choose one of those teams, I recommend Alabama. That way, you and Brenda'll only be at odds when Georgia and Alabama play each other. The rest of the time, you can both root for Auburn getting beat. And Tennessee."

"I'll keep that in mind, Clay," Andy said, glad no one was in the vicinity to hear the conversation – especially Provenza. Willie Rae had him and Tao cornered in the kitchen and Sanchez had gone to the store for ice and sodas.

After Andy had put their luggage in the guest room, Clay gestured to the sofa. "Well, sit and watch the game with me. The Braves are gettin' their butts kicked, but it's still a baseball game."

Andy found the last diet soda in the fridge and sat next to Brenda's father. He watched for a while and said, "I dunno, Clay. I think the Cardinals are just too much for them today."

"Can't execute, that's what. They've left five on base, so far. You don't score leaving men on base. Paying these guys millions of dollars and they can't even get a runner home. "

Andy chuckled. "Well, if the Dodgers don't find some pitching, somewhere, they're gonna be in the basement from now on. Maybe we oughta just switch to the Cardinals. Looks like they might be in contention."

"I'm tempted, watching games like this, let me tell you," Clay growled in response.

* * *

><p>In later years, Brenda never would be able to clearly recall the days after Fritz's death. Certainly, "blur" described them as well as anything. She knew she planned the funeral, that it was a dignified and solemn service, appropriate for a federal agent. She remembered that Claire said her own goodbyes to her brother when she threw a wreath of flowers into the ocean, not far from where Brenda and Fritz were married.<p>

She could see the L.A. division FBI chief hand her the folded U.S. flag that had draped the coffin. That was like watching a movie. She knew Andy had received a citation of thanks from the FBI for apprehending Tate, and a citation for bravery from the LAPD. She had sent personal gifts of thanks to every member of the Major Crimes unit. They all received matching pen and pencil sets, engraved with their names. She even sent a set to Sharon Raydor. No one was more surprised than Sharon to get the gift, and when she told Andy, he had just grinned at her and told her you never could tell with people.

And then, there was Andy. He had been quietly in the background, but always just in reach whenever Brenda needed a strong arm around her shoulders or a hand to hold. He had spent half days at the office, catching up on paperwork and such, but he never failed to stop by the house to make sure he was available if she needed anything. The crew had noticed, but hadn't said much to him, or each other. But Brenda had known, if she so much as reached out her hand, his was there for her. He wasn't obtrusive about it, but Clay Johnson saw, to his satisfaction, that the big, bluff lieutenant was well able to take care of his little girl.

Finally, Clay and Willie Rae went back to Atlanta, the crew went home and Andy kissed her softly on the forehead and left, too. For the first time in ten days, Brenda was alone in the house.

And then, the empty time had begun.


	8. Chapter 8: Love Will Keep Us Alive

**A/N:** And the next one. I think those who were looking for some goodness will be pleased. Hope so, anyway. :) As always, please R&R, and know that I do appreciate every single one!

_Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8: Love Will Keep Us Alive<strong>

"Try to be as normal as possible when Chief Johnson comes back." That had been the advice of the department psychiatrist, who had been enlisted to speak with the Major Crimes team about Brenda.

"Normal?" Provenza had echoed.

"Normal." The doctor smiled. "Whatever passes for normal in this department. If you normally trade jokes and insults, keep it up. Try not to walk on eggshells around the chief. It really will help her get back on a stable footing more quickly."

As usual, Brenda was a little late coming in on Monday morning. The crew was already there, and bearing in mind the doctor's advice, greeted her casually.

"Can I get you a cup of coffee, Chief?" Andy said.

"Yes, Lieutenant. That would be nice. I didn't have time to stop on my way in. Thank you."

Andy took the coffee to Brenda's office. "There you go," he said.

"Thank you so much." As Andy turned to go, Brenda said, "Andy, just a minute."

"Yeah, Chief?"

"I'll thank the squad all at once, too, but thank _you_. The past two weeks have been, well, just surreal, I guess is the best word. I know you spent more time at my house than you did at yours. You don't know what it meant to me to have you there. Really. Oh, and I saw the department psychiatrist and he recommended a good counselor for me. I've been to four appointments already. I think it's helping."

Andy smiled, his eyes warm. "You're welcome, Brenda. But mostly, I'm glad you're getting some counseling. I think that's going to help you more than you realize."

"Me too. You've been wonderful, Andy."

Andy just grinned at her and went back to his desk.

Brenda caught up on some paperwork, and got her thoughts in order about what to say to her squad. She jotted down some notes and looked them over. Satisfied, she went to the white board. "Can I talk to y'all a minute?" she said. The crew turned their chairs to face her.

She took a deep breath. "It's so hard to put into words how much I appreciate every one of you. Words just don't do it justice. I try to thank people and say 'please,' and let you know I notice how hard you work in this unit. I really try to do that every day, because I _do_ appreciate you. But this has been one of those times when I know – I absolutely _know_ — I couldn't have faced what I had to deal with if it hadn't been for all of you." Here, she paused to smile at them.

"Now, I've heard some of you say that you should have caught Lamar Tate, that you let me down, that you should never have allowed him to get that close. Or, that you should have taken a shot at him before you did. None of that is true. He had just sold a lot of coke for cash before he left, and he was driving a borrowed car. He lived on cash and took the back routes out here. We were at a tactical disadvantage the whole time. But we all know that sometimes, cases just don't work out the way we think they ought to, in spite of our best efforts. Every single one of you did your very best for me, and for Agent Howard, and I thank you. I am honored that I can call every one of you a friend. Most people aren't lucky enough to have friends like you. Thank you again, so much."

A quiet murmur of "you're welcome, Chief," came back and she nodded at them and went back to her office.

They caught one case that week, but since the suspect was sitting on the front lawn with the hatchet he used to hack his ex-wife and her sister to death, it wasn't exactly time-consuming, except for the everlasting paperwork.

* * *

><p>Friday night, Andy was still in the murder room working, and wishing he had paid more attention to learning to type in typing class in high school, and less attention to Molly Connor's tight sweaters. He never had mastered the "touch" system, and even though a computer keyboard was considerably more forgiving than an old Underwood manual, it still didn't go rapidly. He hit the "backspace" key for the zillionth time and sighed.<p>

"What are you still doing here, Andy?" Brenda asked as she came out of her office.

"Just finishing up this report so I can send it with the rest of the case files. Wish I could type like Tao. He can burn up a keyboard."

She came to stand behind him and he caught a whiff of her perfume. His skin tightened and he was immediately disgusted with himself for even thinking along those lines three weeks after her husband was killed. "Do you have any dinner plans?" she asked.

"Nope. I had a plate of leftovers in the fridge," he answered.

Brenda put a light hand on his shoulder. "I'm really tired of eating by myself. Would you like to go somewhere with me?"

"I guess so. Did you have anywhere in mind?"

"Not necessarily. I wanted some company more than anything."

"Can you give me ten minutes or so to finish this? I know a great little Thai place."

"Sounds good," she answered. She didn't return to her office, but instead, sat at Provenza's desk, where she could see him. His brow furrowed in concentration, he pecked on the keyboard and Brenda watched him closely. Finally, he hit the "send" key to group the report with the rest of the files and with a sigh of relief, logged off his computer. He looked over at Brenda. She was sitting, chin on her hand, smiling brightly at him.

"All done?" she asked.

"Yeah. Finally. Ready to go?"

She nodded.

At dinner, Andy noticed Brenda's rings were gone. When he remarked on it, she looked at her left hand and said, "Well, I gave them to Claire. They were family heirlooms. They belonged to Fritzie's great-grandmother and I thought they should stay in their family. It was strange, taking them off and knowing I'd never wear them again, though."

"I guess so. Have you made any decisions on what to do with his things?"

"Well, I talked to Claire about that, too. She came in last weekend and picked up what she wanted. But she was really happy that Fritzie was an organ donor. Even though he died instantly, they were able to harvest his corneas, kidneys, lungs, heart and liver. I'm glad, too. I got a letter on Monday that said Fritzie's heart went to a 16-year-old boy, one lung to a 14-year-old girl, the other one to a 35-year-old man. His liver went to a 19-year-old boy. One kidney went to a 40-year-old man and the other to a 10-year old girl. Both corneas went to a 25-year-old woman who can see now. So that's seven people who were given a new lease on life."

Andy nodded. "That's a blessing, at least. But the coroner's people took the body. I didn't think he went to the hospital." He was puzzled.

"His division chief had Fritzie's driver's license, and saw where he had registered to be an organ donor about two years ago. When he did, I signed consent forms then, so they didn't have to contact me, and went ahead with the harvesting. I did it just in case something happened and I couldn't be there at the hospital to do it."

"Oh, O.K. That explains it, then," Andy said.

"And I imagine I'll give his clothes to charity. I saw on TV where there's a job center that provides professional clothes for people who don't have any. You know, something appropriate to wear to an interview or work. And all of his suits were nice, so I know he would want someone to have them who needed them. I'm just thinking about selling the house, in fact."

"Kind of early on to be making a decision like that, isn't it?" Andy asked.

"That's what Philippa, my counselor, said. But I'm still thinking about it. I haven't made any firm decisions. She said she'd like to meet you, though."

Andy's eyebrows went up. "Me? How did I get in your sessions?"

"How could you stay out of them? Your name kept coming up and I finally had to 'fess up to Philippa what was going on."

He rolled his eyes. "Ah, Jeez. So I've gotta ask: what did you tell her?"

"Everything. The whole nine yards."

"And now, she wants my hide on the wall, right?"

Brenda giggled. "No, not at all. I didn't try to make myself look good at your expense. Actually, you came out looking way better than I do in this whole thing."

"Is that so? Pardon me if I don't quite believe you," he answered.

She gave him a disgusted look. "Now, Andy. Stop being so suspicious."

"It's my job."

"I know. I'm the same way. But no, Philippa said she very much liked the fact that you've been up front about your AA membership and your recovery. She suggested I go to a couple of meetings with you, if I'm really interested in being in your life. I never did go to any of Fritzie's meetings. I just sort of wanted to ignore it. But I know I can't anymore."

"Just let me know when you want to come and I'll pick you up," Andy said.

"O.K. And Philippa really does want to meet you. I actually have a session in the morning. Will you come?"

Andy considered it. "Sure. I'll come with you. Where is it?"

Brenda dug in her purse and triumphantly pulled out a card. "Here's her card. My appointment is at 10:30 and I like to be there early, so I'll be by for you at 9:45?"

He took the card. "Sounds good. Guess I'd better get ready to have my head shrunk," he said with a grin.

"Oh, Andy. You're just awful sometimes, you know it?"

"That's my job, too."

"Well, you don't have to be quite so dedicated to that part of it," Brenda answered.

Andy walked Brenda to her car. She looked up at him. He wore a charcoal gray suit, pale green shirt and a gray, jacquard-check tie. She wondered how anyone could look so sexy in a suit. But he did.

"What is it, Brenda? You've got something walking around in that brain of yours," Andy said.

She smiled. "Nothing much. I was just hoping for a good-night kiss is all."

"That's all, huh?" He shook his head, but took her chin and tenderly kissed her. He knew she wanted more than that, but he wasn't about to take advantage of her. So he broke the kiss gently and pressed his lips to her forehead, then took her in his arms for a hug.

Andy was right: Brenda had wanted much more than that, but being in Andy's arms, her cheek against his shirt, smelling his aftershave and whatever it was that made him smell like Andy, wasn't bad, either. She could hear his steady heartbeat and feel him warm and strong against her.

"Are you ever going to let go?" he said, and Brenda could hear his chuckle rumble in his chest. It was a wonderful sound.

"Not voluntarily," she said.

"Time to go home, Brenda Leigh," he said, gently disengaging her arms. He squeezed her hands and said, "I'll see you at 9:45, O.K.?"

She nodded. "All right. Good night, Andy."

"Good night, Brenda."

Well, one thing Andy intended to tell Brenda's therapist was that he didn't want to rush Brenda into anything. Even if her being in his arms was exactly where he wanted her to be.

* * *

><p>Andy had been to the doughnut shop before Brenda arrived. As he got into her car, he handed her the bag and she squealed in delight when she opened it. "Oh, Andy! These look delicious!"<p>

"I figured you might need a sugar fix before you went to therapy."

"Oh, always!" she giggled, and took a huge bite of a jelly doughnut. "Mmmmm. That is heavenly!" she sighed, wiping the corners of her mouth with her fingers and then licking them. Andy nearly had a coronary when she did that. Food was mostly just food for him, but for Brenda, it was clearly a sensual experience, and watching her enjoy something like that was almost porn. He turned his head to look out the window. He had no choice. It was either that or drag her into the back seat.

"Not too much smog this morning," he said.

"Mmmph? Oh, I hadn't noticed. This is a really good batch today. And it's strawberry filling! You remembered when I said the raspberry seeds get caught in my teeth. You're so sweet."

"And you're covered in powdered sugar," he said dryly.

She looked down. "Oh shoot! Well, I'll just shake it off when we get to Philippa's office. I think you'll really like her." She finished the doughnut, to Andy's intense relief, and took a long drink from her coffee cup. "That was just divine. I'll return the favor."

Andy could think of at least a dozen or so ways Brenda could return that favor, but thinking about any of them was dangerous. So he said, "Don't worry about it. We need to get going."

Brenda looked at her watch. "Yes, we do."

As they drove, Brenda chattered happily. Andy didn't say much, mostly because Brenda's driving made him nervous. However, they didn't have to get on the freeway, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

"Here we are!" she said, as she pulled into a little row of nondescript offices. Andy knew from experience though, that some of the biggest names in L.A. mental health had offices like this. They didn't want to be obvious.

They walked inside and Andy looked around. Looked like any other doctor's office anywhere in the country, with beige walls and generic floral prints. At least the sofas were comfortable. Brenda greeted the receptionist and signed in.

She was called back a few minutes later and motioned to Andy. He walked back down the hall with her and she knocked on a door. "Come in," came a voice and they walked inside.

"Good morning, Brenda!" said the therapist. She stood. Andy's eyes widened. She was a knockout. She was every bit of 5'10 and had long, dark auburn hair and blue eyes. Wow.

"This must be Andy," the woman said, extending her hand. "Philippa Dalton."

"Andy Flynn," he replied, taking her hand briefly.

"So nice to meet you, Andy. Tell you what, Brenda. I'd like to talk to Andy alone for a bit. If you'll step into my waiting area, I'll call you when I'm ready for you."

"Sure, Philippa," Brenda said. She had seen the look in Andy's eyes when he saw her therapist, and felt just a tiny pinch of jealousy. But she went into the next room and picked up a magazine.

"So, Andy, please sit down," Philippa said.

He did, still looking at her. "Thanks."

"All right. Just so we can get this out of the way. Yes, I modeled for a living. It nearly killed me so I went back to school and got my degree in psychology and a master's in counseling. I'm a licensed therapist, and I specialized in grief and addiction therapy, since the two so often go together."

Andy nodded, impressed. "Hey, I'm just a Jersey cop with a little junior college under my belt. I respect education."

"I'm glad. So how long have you and Brenda worked together?"

"Oh, six, seven years?"

"I see. Brenda tells me your relationship wasn't always as friendly as it is now."

He shook his head. "Nope. It wasn't. I was a real jackass. But I've mellowed in my old age, and we've gotten used to each other."

"That's nice to know," Philippa said with a grin. "How long have you been in AA?"

"Over fourteen years."

"Any relapses?"

"A couple. Long time ago. But probably not for, ten years, at least."

"That's great. What's your worst fault, do you think?

"Don't have to think about it. My temper. No question. I've had to make more amends for something I've said when I'm pissed than for anything else since I've been in recovery."

She nodded. "Brenda said something along the same lines about herself. How well do you control your temper?"

Andy considered the question. "Outside of work? Ninety-nine percent of the time. With co-workers? Ninety-five percent of the time. With perps? Not quite as often."

Philippa gave him a wry grin. "Why am I not surprised? Brenda also told me you've had encounters with suspects occasionally. Anything violent?"

"Whatever the situation called for. But if the question you're dancing around is if I've ever hit a woman, the answer is no. Not even when I was drinking."

"Straight to the point, which I have a feeling is the norm for you. Yes, that's what I was asking. But I didn't really think you were the type, anyway. How many times have you been in an officer-involved shooting?"

"I'm not sure. It hasn't been that often, not for a cop with 25 years on the force, and half of that spent in Robbery/Homicide and Major Crimes. We deal with the really bad boys. So, we're more apt to be in situations that call for deadly force. Philippa, I have a bad temper. I told you that. But I don't consider myself to be a violent man. Especially when I'm not on the clock. I don't start fights. I don't look for fights. I'll sure as hell end one if I'm attacked, but I don't go looking for trouble. That's just stupid."

"But you'd fight to the death to protect someone you loved."

"You got it, lady."'

"I don't think I'd want to get in your way. But to change the subject, how do you feel about Brenda?"

"I care a lot about her."

"O.K. What else?"

"What else do you want to know?" Andy was starting to get a little irritated now.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Were you glad her husband died?"

"Hell, no! What do you think I am, some kind of monster?"

"Made it convenient for you."

"Lady, I know your job is to ask questions, but you are not gonna sit there and grill me like I'm a murder suspect."

"Just trying to get to know you better, Andy."

"No, you're trying to get inside my head. Which would be fine, but you've got some weird ideas about me, apparently, and you're trying to figure out how right you are." Irritated was turning into pissed.

"Brenda is my patient. I have her best interests at heart."

"I believe you. So here's what you need to know. I care very much for Brenda. I don't know yet if I'm in love with her. I'm a little hesitant about using that word since I have two ex-wives. But, I would _never_ intentionally hurt her. I'd rather open up a vein in my arm, O.K.? I understand you don't want to see her get into a bad relationship, especially considering her husband has been dead three weeks yesterday. I don't want to see that either. I don't want to rush her. And I'm not going to. But in case you haven't noticed, Brenda Leigh Johnson is a lot like a freight train. She goes along, regardless of the obstacles. I'd already told her that I wasn't going to get into a personal relationship with her until she decided what to do about her marriage. I hadn't changed my mind about it. Fritz Howard being killed was a tragedy. For her, for his family. Plus it cost the FBI a damn good agent." He sat back in his chair and glared at the therapist, arms crossed.

Philippa sat back, too, eyes a little wide. Andy Flynn was something else, all right. And he hadn't been truly angry. She'd bet her license he was one scary SOB when he was, though. "Brenda was right about that scowl you've got. It is formidable. But Andy, I like you. I really do. You're honest, which I'd expect after 14 years in AA. And you put up with my admittedly pointed questions without losing your temper. You set me straight, but you didn't lose control." Brenda had also said Andy Flynn was one of the sexiest men she had ever met and Philippa had to agree with her. He was hot.

"So, do I pass?" His tone was still irritated and not a little sarcastic.

She smiled. "Yeah, you pass. Will you please ask Brenda to come in? And you can sit where she is now."

"Certainly." He stood and nodded at her, still nettled. Philippa imagined his feathers would be ruffled for a while. His eyes were still flashing. He opened the side door. "Brenda? She's ready for you."

"Oh, thank you, Andy." She looked at him. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. Fine. Go on." He went into the room and closed the door.

Brenda knew Andy well and knew his "annoyed" looks. "Is everything all right?" she asked Philippa.

Her therapist chuckled. "That Andy is something of a force of nature, isn't he?"

"He can be. Why? He didn't say something ugly, did he?" Brenda said anxiously.

"No, no. I was just poking the bear, and the bear poked back."

"Oh, no. I'm so sorry, Philippa. What did he say?"

"Really, nothing. He just let me know he wasn't going to put up with being poked, that's all. I was baiting him deliberately, I'll admit. I wanted him to react, and he did, but not quite like I expected. All that prickly, tough talk hides a pillar of Jell-O, doesn't it?"

Brenda giggled. "Yeah, it does."

"But I'll tell you something. If I were in a dark alley, I'd want Andy Flynn with me. He's capable of being a dangerous man."

"He is, but that doesn't bother me. He's only dangerous when the situation calls for it."

"Never a dull moment, though, I'm sure."

"Oh no. Never a single one."

Philippa smiled at Brenda. "What would you say if I advised you to stay on a platonic friendship basis with Andy for six months?"

"Six months?" Brenda thought about it. "Not possible."

"Why not?"

"My feelings for Andy haven't appeared just in the past few weeks. They've been here for a while. I might – _might_ manage six weeks. But I'm not making any guarantees."

"Your husband just died."

"My friend died, Philippa. We really hadn't seen eye to eye as man and wife in a year."

"Would Andy wait for you for six months?"

"Yeah, but he shouldn't have to. Not when I know very well how I feel about him. I know I have a lot of issues to deal with, but my feelings for Andy aren't on that list. That's the one thing in my life I'm sure of right now." Brenda's tone was decided.

"O.K. Brenda. I can't tell you what to do. I can only make suggestions. My suggestion is you cool it with Andy, for now, until you're more emotionally stable. If not, don't treat him like an extension of Fritz."

"No chance of that," Brenda answered.

"All right. Well, let's move on to another topic," Philippa said.

* * *

><p>Andy was still feeling a little bruised on the drive back to his place.<p>

"Philippa really likes you," Brenda said.

"Ehh," was all the answer she received.

"Don't you like her?"

"I'm sure she's a good therapist and is helping you. Doesn't matter whether I like her or not, as long as you do, and you trust her."

"What did she say to upset you?"

"No big deal. It's my problem to get over," Andy replied.

"You're pretty aggravated with her, though."

"Yeah, I am."

Brenda realized that was all she was going to get out of him on the subject, at least for the time being. She thought he might eventually tell her, but even a CIA-trained interrogator wasn't going to get Andy Flynn to open up on a subject if he didn't want to. She doubted anything could.

"You know what else I'm doing?" she said.

"What's that?"

"I'm taking a cooking class."

Andy looked at her. "A cooking class?" he echoed, but this time, his eyes were twinkling.

"Yep. Sure am."

"How long has this been going on?"

"I've been to three classes so far."

"You must've done all right. I don't remember any big fire calls the past couple of weeks."

Brenda looked indignantly at Andy until he motioned to her to keep her eyes on the road.

"You stinker! That's mean!" She reached to smack him on the arm.

"C'mon, Brenda. That was too good to pass up."

"Oh, all right, but you were gonna be my first guinea pig. My class is at twelve-thirty and we're fixing lunch. We were supposed to bring a guest. So I guess I'll have to go get David or Provenza. Bet one of _them_ would appreciate the opportunity."

"No way. If you're taking a cooking class, this I've got to see. But, we're going back to my place and getting my car. You make me too antsy behind the wheel."

"Why you male chauvinist pig! I didn't know you had a thing about women drivers!" Brenda exclaimed.

Andy snorted. "I don't. I'd get in the car with Irene Daniels any day. You get distracted too easily." Whew. He had almost said, "get in the car with Sharon Raydor," but stopped himself in time. That would have been a mistake of monumental proportions. But it was true. Sharon was a safe, calm driver. Brenda was twitchy. Made him crazy.

"First, you insult my cooking, and then my driving. Maybe I don't want to go anywhere else with you, after all," she sniffed.

"Settle down, Miss Atlanta. Just get me home, all right?"

"Don't call me that!"

"What? Miss Atlanta?" A huge grin broke over his face and he chuckled.

"Oh shoot. Now I'll never hear the end of it."

"Drive, please, for my sake."

* * *

><p>The cooking class was held in the home economics department of a local high school. It was the catering company Brenda had found online, and the owner offered the classes through a community education program. She started the class by reminding her students that cooking was primarily a series of steps, and that, by following the steps, anyone could be successful.<p>

Andy watched the class with interest. He learned to cook early on from his Italian grandmother. She lived with them and insisted her grandchildren learn their way around a kitchen. But it was certainly amusing watching Brenda take orders for a change, instead of giving them, and fluttering anxiously around her kitchen, tasting and stirring. The fact that she had chosen to do a meatless spaghetti told Andy she had planned on him being there, so he was glad to do this for her. But this kind of pasta sauce was a basic recipe and she should be able to handle it. Andy, of course, could make red sauce in his sleep. He'd been doing it since he was ten or twelve. Came in handy when he was a bachelor at the academy and had to fend for himself.

The instructor also gave tips on plating and presenting an attractive dish, something Andy rarely worried with. If it tasted good, that was fine with him. But he listened to the teacher as she discussed the topic and filed away some of her points for future reference.

He watched Brenda drain the pasta and drizzle a little olive oil and fresh basil into the sauce. Following instructions, she took tongs and arranged the pasta attractively into two bowls and ladled sauce on top. She garnished each dish with another basil leaf and stepped back from the counter. Her instructor tasted the sauce in a separate bowl and smiled at her. Brenda sighed.

Tables had been set up and the students invited their guests to eat. As Andy sat down, he grinned broadly at Brenda as she set the bowl in front of him, along with grated Parmesan cheese. He spooned a healthy portion on his pasta and took a bite.

Brenda looked at him anxiously. His dark eyes fairly danced with laughter. She knew he could probably make this sauce blindfolded, with one hand tied behind his back, so she was especially nervous. She really had done her best with the sauce, and it tasted fine to her, but she also knew Andy had been eating this stuff all his life. So his opinion was the one that counted.

Unless she had dropped the salt shaker in it, or dumped in a box of sugar Andy knew it would taste fine. He could tell by the way it smelled. Still, he tasted it carefully. Brenda was biting her lower lip, her eyes wide. He couldn't keep her in suspense. "It's great, Brenda. Seriously. Very good."

She exhaled the breath she had been holding. "Really? It's good?"

Andy nodded. "It is. You did a great job."

"Oh, I'm so glad it turned out all right! Normally, what I cook just turns into a mess, but I'm so pleased you like it!" She was beaming at him. For that smile, he would have eaten it with a cup of salt – or sugar — in it, and said it tasted good.

When they had finished eating the instructor brought out pastries from her business. Andy took a small square of baklava, but Brenda snagged an enormous, gooey brownie, and he knew he was going to have to find something to distract him, rather than sit there and watch Brenda have a foodgasm with that brownie. He'd never met anyone who had the love affair with sweets that she did. He supposed her metabolism was so high that the calories just burned right off. Unlike with him, he thought ruefully, poking himself in the stomach and feeling more gut than he wanted. Back to the gym. Fortunately, Brenda's instructor came to speak to him at that point.

"Thank you so much for coming today! We appreciate having you in class."

"I enjoyed it," he answered. The woman introduced herself and he shook her hand. "Andy Flynn. Brenda and I work together."

"Oh, how nice! I thought Brenda did a very good job with her recipe today."

"I did too. It was delicious. And your class was interesting, too." Andy was being very charming, Brenda noticed, as she wiped the chocolate frosting from her mouth. But that was par for the course. Her instructor was a slightly older lady, and Andy could charm their socks right off. His manners were excellent –when he chose to use them –and the old ladies ate it up. By the time she moved on to the next student, she was almost fluttering.

"You hound dawg," Brenda said without heat.

Andy shrugged. "Can I help it if older ladies love me? She reminds me of my grandma's friends."

Brenda stood. "Well, I need to clean up and we'll go."

"O.K." Andy sat back and watched her. As was her way, when she went in for something, she went whole hog with it. She was getting counseling and taking a cooking class, and he wondered what would be next in her quest for self-improvement. But he suspected some of this activity was to take her mind off Fritz. She just wasn't going to slow down long enough for the thoughts to catch up with her. But he knew they would, eventually. And he'd be there for her when they did.

* * *

><p>Andy heard something. It sounded like someone was having a fight next door. He turned over. Stupid drunk college kids, he thought. Then, he thought he heard someone call his name. His clock read 4 a.m. He fumbled for his cell. No messages, so he hadn't slept through the ringer, not that he could. But the pounding continued. What the hell?<p>

He crawled out of bed and dragged himself to the door. "Keep your shirt on!" he called. This had better be good. He adjusted his sleep pants around his waist so he wouldn't trip over the hems. He didn't know who was trying to break down his door, but if a neighbor called the cops, whoever it was could bail themselves out of jail. He wasn't doing it.

He opened the door and had a millisecond to realize it was Brenda, before she had thrown her arms around him, burying her face in his chest and gibbering like a madwoman. He reached over her and closed the door.

"Andy, I couldn't! I just couldn't! It was too hard tonight! It was awful! I could see him and it was terrible! And I woke up and nobody there, and I was so scared and there was nobody there, and it was so quiet and I couldn't stay!" She was bordering on hysterical. Andy held her for a few moments, not saying anything, just stroking her hair and making quiet shushing noises. Finally, Brenda stopped shaking so violently and looked up at him. He led her to the sofa and pulled her down into his lap. She hid her face in his neck and his arms came around her again.

"Now, what is going on with you? Can you tell me?"

"It was awful. I had the most horrible nightmare and it was terrible. I couldn't stay in that house by myself one more second. I'm selling it Andy. I swear I am."

He shook his head. What Brenda had been through the past seven months would have been enough to drive a lot of people to a nervous breakdown long before. He was surprised something like this hadn't happened before now. Brenda wore her pajamas with that long sweater over them. She had paused long enough to slip on a pair of flip-flops and grab her car keys. She didn't even have her purse. He was glad no one had pulled her over, since she didn't have her license or badge with her. He didn't know how she had made that 15-minute drive in her state of mind, either. It almost made him wish he had a bottle of whiskey around. If anybody ever needed a hot toddy, she did.

"It's O.K.," he said, as he scooched her off his lap and on to the sofa. "Stay put."

Andy went into his kitchen and hunted through the cabinets. He had cocoa, sugar, salt and soymilk. Sounded like hot chocolate to him. So he consulted the side of the cocoa can, measured out cocoa for one cup, then thought about it and made a second cup for himself. A minute or so in the microwave and he had two cups of hot cocoa. He stirred them and took them to the den. He handed one to Brenda. "Drink that," he said.

"Thank you," she whispered and took the mug. She sipped it, still wide-eyed, and Andy drank his cocoa and waited patiently for Brenda to calm down. Finally, she looked at him and said, "I'm sorry I woke you up at such a godawful hour."

He shrugged. "It's all right, but you shouldn't have tried to drive. You're in no shape to do it. You could have had an accident."

Brenda nodded. "I know. I just felt like, if I didn't get out of that house, I was going to lose my mind."

"Have you told Philippa you've been having these nightmares?"

"Yeah. She said it's not unusual, and they'll eventually go away. But tonight, I just knew I was going crazy." Brenda clutched the mug. Something about its warmth was comforting and she didn't want to put it down. She took a shuddering breath. "I was dreaming I woke up and turned over, and Fritz's body was beside me in the bed. It was awful. And then Lamar was standing in the doorway laughing at me and saying, 'I told you I'd get you.' Andy, I can't begin to tell you how horrible it was. And then I really did wake up, and it seemed like the silence in the house was closing in on me. I had to get out of there."

She looked over at Andy. He was turned to face her and his eyebrows were knit with worry. His eyes, though, were wonderfully soft. "I'm so sorry, Brenda," he said. "I know it was terrifying."

Brenda put her cup on the coffee table. "I don't know if I can ever walk inside that house again," she said.

"Well, you don't have to tonight, that's for sure," Andy said. "Take that sweater thing off and come on to bed. You need the rest. I can tell you haven't been sleeping well."

"All right," she answered, leaving her sweater on the sofa. She followed him into the bedroom. He paused to grab an extra pillow from the hall closet and handed it to her.

She placed it on the bed and Andy got in bed first and patted the space. "Come on."

Brenda slipped under the blanket beside him, feeling a little shy, for some reason.

"Are you all right?" Andy asked.

"I will be. Maybe I can get some sleep now."

"I hope you can." He turned out the light on the side table and in the darkness, plumped his pillow and turned on his side. He snuggled up next to Brenda, cuddling her to his chest.

She relaxed into that warm strength she always associated with Andy and was soon asleep.

Andy lay awake for a little while longer, enjoying the feel of her body against his, with less guilt, or different guilt, at least, than he had the first time. When Brenda's even breathing told him she was sleeping soundly, he allowed himself to drift back to sleep, as well.

* * *

><p>It was the best night's sleep she had since the last time she had slept in Andy's arms, Brenda thought, as she woke. She turned over. Andy was not beside her, but listening, she could hear him somewhere in the apartment. "Andy?" she called.<p>

He appeared in the doorway, toothbrush in hand. "Couple of minutes," he said. She nodded. As she looked around, she sighed, and wondered how she had managed to drive here the way she was last night. But she wouldn't think about last night – except how sweet Andy was to her, and how good it felt to be in his arms. That was all she wanted to remember.

The light in the room was filtered through the drapes and blinds at the window. It was a north facing window, so the light was a little softer. Brenda wondered for a minute about what she would find to wear, and remembered she kept a pair of jeans and a T-shirt in her car all the time, for emergencies. She had a tank top on, but something in the back was making her itch. She thought she could feel a stray thread, so she slipped the top off and searched for the culprit.

Andy went into the bedroom and stopped cold. Brenda's bare back faced him, her head ducked, but he couldn't see exactly what she was doing. Her hair was down one side of her neck, and the diffused light threw exquisite shadows across the room, outlining her shoulders, the curve of her spine. She raised her head and the shadow grazed her neck. She looked like a painting he remembered seeing in a museum. All he could do was look at her.

Brenda, completely unconscious of the effect, turned to see Andy standing in the doorway. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, and his hair was still spiky damp from his shower. He was staring at her as though he had never seen her before. She remembered the look in his eyes when he had told her she was beautiful all those weeks ago, but this look was ten times more intense. It was a look of total possession. She didn't think Fritz had ever looked at her so — honestly. But she had learned over the years that Andy's dark eyes were definitely the windows to his soul, and once you knew how to read them, they told you everything that was in his heart. In this moment, his eyes told her exactly how much he wanted and needed her – how much he loved her.

When Brenda turned her head to look at him, Andy could almost feel an electric jolt as her eyes met his. Nothing needed to be said as she extended a slim hand and he crossed the room to her and took it. He sat on the bed beside her and kissed her lightly on the back of her neck. With one finger, he traced the path of her spine from her neck, down her back. She shivered uncontrollably and goosebumps broke out on every inch of her skin. He fanned both hands back up her shoulder blades and they came to rest on the tops of her shoulders. He kissed her neck again, this time up the smooth column and across her shoulders, interspersing the kisses with tiny, soft nips, his teeth barely grazing her skin. His hands were gently massaging her shoulders and upper arms.

Heat, fire, wanting, longing, yearning, aching, needing, desire, lust – none of it came close to describing the all-consuming _something_ Andy started in Brenda's blood when he touched her. It was nothing short of amazing that the mouth that could twist so readily into a sardonic grin could be so soft, but so hot, on her skin. She turned her head, so he could better access those sensitive spots under her earlobes, and he kissed and nibbled those places. His mouth came to her ear and he rasped, "If you're not sure, please stop me now."

"I'm sure. I don't want you to stop," she whispered raggedly.

Andy turned a little more so that he was fully behind Brenda, and brought his chest into full contact with her back. The feel of her skin against his was almost more than he could stand, and he closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths while he regained a little control over himself. He wanted her soft, sweet, delicious body in every way he could think of, but he settled for bringing his hands around her waist, up to her breasts, stroking them, feeling her nipples harden against his palms, as he continued placing soft kisses on her neck, willing her to want him as much as he wanted her.

As good as his skin felt on her back, Brenda wanted Andy's kisses. They were not to be missed when available, and she turned and caught his mouth with hers. She brought her hands up and felt for that particular spot on the nape of his neck, right below his hairline, which she loved to tease with her fingertips. It was the same spot she could see even when they were at work. It was right above his collar and it was a constant temptation for her to brush her fingers across it or better yet, lean over to kiss that little patch as she walked by Andy's desk. One day, she would, she vowed to herself.

Brenda never tired of looking at Andy. His skin, several shades darker than hers, tanned dark in the sun. His salt and pepper hair was a strikingly attractive contrast to his skin and those eyes, oh those eyes. They were better than the best chocolate she ever had. She kissed him again, feeling his soft, thick hair under her hands. How had she worked with him all this time and kept from kissing and touching him? No figuring that puzzle out.

Andy didn't know where Brenda's pajama bottoms had ended up, or how, but with her body along the length of his, he didn't much care. This was different from the first time. Then, there had been that odd little power struggle, with Brenda trying to control how Andy made love to her, and Andy trying to get her to relax and allow him to love her. But that was all gone. Brenda was hardly passive, but there was a trust in place now that gave her the security to let herself go with him.

His mouth found its way down to her breasts and as he teased her nipples with his tongue and teeth, he could feel Brenda lightly scratching his back and he raised his head and said, "Watch those claws, if you don't mind. Last time, my back was sore for a couple of days."

"I'm sorry, honey. I'll be careful. I promise," she said, her nose wrinkling in that adorable way that brought out all his caveman instincts. He still wasn't sure how this woman had worked her way into his blood and under his skin, but he'd ponder that question later. Right now, there were other, more important things to consider. Brenda was telling him how good his mouth felt on her skin. So, he'd move a little lower and see what kind of reaction that got. A good one, as it turned out. She arched her back and moaned softly as she figured out where he was headed.

Well, that was a good sign, although Andy had rarely met a woman who didn't enjoy oral sex. It was pretty much a sure thing. He knew guys who didn't like doing it, but he wasn't one of them. It was part of a woman's body and that was enough for him. Besides, nothing made a woman crazier, that he knew of.

Brenda thought she might pass out. It was just too good. And she thought Andy was really into it, too. He acted like he enjoyed it, anyway. But he had this down to an art. The tip of his tongue would barely flick over that button and he would do something else, but always returned to tease her there again. The intensity tripled when he slipped a finger inside her, but kept up the assault with his tongue. It was so, so much better and she climaxed in less than no time, screaming his name, her body shaking and shuddering as he worked his way back up to nosing in her hair and whispering to her how much he wanted her.

"Then take me, Andy," she managed to say. "Take me, please."

His body was screaming, aching for release, but he still hesitated. "You sure?"

She nodded. "I want you to. Please."

Nothing had ever felt as good as when he slowly eased into her body. She was still shaking from her climax, but she twined her legs around his waist, locked her hands under his shoulders and met every thrust. She wasn't expecting it – in fact, had never experienced it – but in that sweet rhythm, she could feel something starting in the small of her back, spiraling around her middle and just before Andy cried his release, she climaxed again and went completely limp in his arms.

She was floating on a blissful cloud when she heard Andy's soft chuckle. "Was that what I think it was?" he said in her ear.

"Mmm-hmm," she said, turning over to bury her face in his chest. "Thank you, darlin'. It was a first."

"For me, too. Never had that happen before."

"I'd only heard about it," Brenda murmured. "I love you, Andy," she sighed and pillowing her head on his arm, fell promptly asleep.

Andy looked at the aggravating, temperamental, stubborn, sensual, wonderful woman in his arms, sleeping like a child and whispered, "I love you too, Brenda Leigh," against her hair before going back to sleep himself.


	9. Chapter 9: Honesty

**A/N:** Writer's block. Don't you just hate it? This chapter moves things along a bit, but mostly it's Brenda and Andy getting more of a handle on being a couple. Hope you enjoy it! And please R&R! I'm always open to ideas too, so PM me if you've got one!

Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer."

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9: Honesty<strong>

"So call it brunch, then," Andy said, as he placed three pancakes on a plate and put it in front of Brenda.

"I just said it was a little late for breakfast."

"That's what happens when you stay in bed all morning," Andy answered with a smirk, as he got his own pancakes and sat down at the kitchen table next to Brenda.

She ducked her head. "I guess you have a point there." She took a few bites while she thought. "I told Philippa I knew six months wasn't going to work. I said six weeks. I think I made it four."

"What are you talking about?" Andy raised an eyebrow.

"Well, she asked me yesterday morning if I thought we could stay on a platonic friendship basis for six months. I said I didn't think so. Six weeks, maybe, but I wasn't making any promises."

"I guess she felt it was a little too soon otherwise?"

"Yeah. She also said she wanted to make sure I wasn't treating you like an extension of Fritz."

Andy sipped his coffee. "Makes sense. But I'm telling you right now, Brenda Leigh Johnson, you're not gonna hoodwink me like you did him. You'd be surprised about how much this squad knows about your marriage. Fritz Howard was a lot more easygoing than I am. He let you get away with a lot of crap, because he didn't want to fight you. You're not manipulating me like you did him. No way."

Brenda opened her mouth and then closed it. As usual, Andy had her pegged. She couldn't even argue. "Well, he did quite a bit of manipulatin', too! It wasn't just me!"

"Self preservation, probably. It was the only way to get you to do anything." At Brenda's indignant look, he just cocked his head at her and with his eyes, dared her to dispute the point.

"Well, there might be something to that." She finished her pancakes. "Is there any more batter?"

Andy smiled at her. "Yeah. Want to try to make them yourself?"

"Oh, no. I always either burn them to a crisp or don't cook them enough."

"Try it. I'll keep an eye on you. You made pasta sauce yesterday. Why not pancakes today?"

"All right, but if you can't eat the result, don't say I didn't warn you."

Andy chuckled and stood next to Brenda at the griddle. "O.K. Cut a little butter and melt it on the griddle."

She did as instructed and when the butter melted, she took the batter cup and poured six circles of batter on the griddle.

"Now, just wait for them to cook on one side. Watch the bubbles in the batter. When they pop and leave little holes, it's time to turn the pancakes, all right?"

Brenda nodded and carefully watched the pancakes cook. She started to turn the edge of one up to check it, when Andy stopped her.

"No, let it cook. It's fine. That's the nice thing about an electric griddle. You set the temperature and it's steady." He looked at the griddle. "O.K. See how the bubbles have popped in that first one you poured? It's ready to turn. Don't try to be showy. Just turn the pancake."

She did and looked up at Andy. He grinned at her and said, "Now the rest. They're done, too."

"Oh! Yeah, they are." She managed to flip the rest of the pancakes without incident.

"Now give them a minute or two. And this time, you can lift the edge to check it."

She did and at his nod, plated the pancakes. "I did it!" she said, beaming at him.

Andy wondered how anyone had made it to her age without being able to make pancakes, but he said, "It's about focus. You just have to keep your mind on what you're doing."

She nodded. "I guess so. One day, I'll cook breakfast for you."

"Looking forward to it," he said with a smile. When they finished eating, Andy said, "O.K. Let's get the mess cleaned up so we don't have to worry about it."

Brenda frowned at him. "Oh, let's wait a while."

Andy shook his head. "You can wait in your kitchen. In mine, we clean up. I'm not a neat freak, but I'm like my grandma. I hate a messy kitchen."

Brenda remembered she was a guest here, and the least she could do would be to help clean up.

"All right. It is your house, after all."

"Sure is," he said.

As she washed and dried the griddle, Brenda reflected that life with Andy would be a very different proposition than with Fritz. Andy was right. Fritz had let her get away with a shocking number of things, just because he didn't like conflict. She wouldn't say Andy enjoyed it, but he certainly wasn't going to back down from her, and she was going to have to learn to be with a man who wouldn't. With Andy, she would have to explain her actions, if asked, and tell him things he needed to know ahead of time, instead of waiting until those things had transpired and then asking forgiveness. That wouldn't work with Andy.

"I can smell smoke," Andy said.

Brenda turned to him. "What? Smoke?"

He laughed. "Yeah. Up here," he said, tapping her head. "The wheels are turning."

"I was just thinkin'."

"Yeah. Figured that out. About what?"

"Well, I was just thinkin' that I didn't want us to have a, well, you know, tempestuous relationship."

Andy grinned at her. "Tempestuous? You've been reading those romance novels again, haven't you?"

"Well, they don't take much effort. But I mean, I want us to have a stable, peaceful relationship."

"Uh-huh. Go on, please."

Brenda gave him her frustrated look. "You know, I don't want us to fight all the time."

"I don't think that'll happen."

"Well, in college, I knew couples who argued a lot and we always said they had an 'F or F' relationship."

He fought back a snicker. "That's interesting. 'F or F', huh?"

"Yes. I mean, fighting or, well, you know... that other word."

Andy leaned against the counter. His grin was devilish. "Do tell," he said.

Brenda flicked a splash of dishwater at him. "Oh you! You know very well what that other 'F' stands for. I've heard you say it enough."

He dodged the water and laughed outright. "That described my second marriage. I think I can do a little better this time. Although," he said, as he put his arms around her, "make-up sex ain't half bad."

"It has its merits," Brenda replied, pulling away from him and putting the griddle in the dish rack to dry. She turned to face him, hands on her hips. "But I'm not changin' everything about myself just to make you happy."

Andy put his hands on her shoulders. "I'm not asking you to. All I'm asking you to do is to keep working on what _you_ need to change for _you_. Not for me. You do that and it'll be O.K."

Brenda sighed. "Why do you even put up with me?"

He grinned. "Keeps life interesting. You know, you do have a cat at your house, and I'll bet he's wondering where the food is. Think we might need to go over there and check on him?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Poor thing. He's been pititful. He's been looking for Fritzie. Goes to his chair and meows and looks at me. I never thought about animals missing someone."

"They do, though. They've got a lot more smarts than we give them credit for," Andy said.

"I didn't know you were such an animal lover. Why don't you have a pet?"

Andy raised his eyebrows. "Because of a $500 pet deposit and an extra $50 on the rent, that's why."

"Five hundred for a pet deposit? That's highway robbery!" Brenda exclaimed.

He shrugged. "Those are the terms. Go figure."

"Bet they don't charge extra for kids, and they're way more destructive than any animal."

Andy laughed. "For real. You want me to go get your clothes out of your car so you can get dressed?"

"Please."

Andy brought Brenda her clothes and as she changed, she thought about going back in that house and shuddered. She couldn't believe that a place that had been home so recently now seemed alien and terrifying.

* * *

><p>He drove them to the house and Brenda looked apprehensively up at the place. "I don't really want to go back in there."<p>

"It's O.K., babe. It's just a house. There's no one there who shouldn't be." Andy reached over to stroke Brenda's hair.

"I know. But that dream was just so awful."

"Yeah, but you've got to get it over with sooner or later. Come on."

Having Andy standing behind her as she opened the door made Brenda feel better, and when they got inside, Joel immediately scampered into the room, meowing.

"Oh, Joel!" Brenda exclaimed, picking up the cat. "I'm so sorry. I know you're hungry. Come with me and we'll get you some kitty munchies."

Andy grinned as he watched Brenda walk into the kitchen with her cat. She fed him and came into the den and sat on the sofa. "I don't know what to do," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I just don't feel comfortable here anymore. I really want to sell it. Everything. Just take my stuff and leave it like it is. I want to get another place and buy new furniture and all."

Andy thought that over. "You know, you could make a good bit of extra money renting a fully furnished house in L.A.," he mused. "It's a nice neighborhood. Get a rental agency to take care of the day-to-day stuff, check out potential renters and so forth. That way, you wouldn't have to deal with selling it, and you'd still get some benefit from it."

Brenda looked around her and cocked her head. "I never thought about it that way. That's a good idea, Andy! A really good idea!"

He smiled at her. "I do have them occasionally."

"Only all the time," she answered. "I know I don't give you enough credit sometimes. I need to do better about that."

"So maybe you'll start listening to somebody besides Gabriel and Tao?"

She looked shamefaced. "I know, I know. I've always had a soft spot for David, and Mike, well he just knows how to use those computers! He can come up with stuff it would take me _years_ to find! And he does it in five minutes!"

"They're good. And that's cool. But you know, unless it has to do with gangs, Sanchez might as well be saying the alphabet, and unless it's an old case, me and Provenza are just for decoration. Or I am, anyway. I wouldn't call Provenza really decorative," Andy teased.

"Andy, am I that bad?" Brenda looked distressed.

"Honestly, Brenda? You can be. Seriously: David Gabriel is a good cop. He's got great instincts, O.K.? Little short on experience, though, and that can get him into trouble. But because he tends to pick up on how you see the case, and in turn, tells you what you want to hear, you really depend on him. When we're just tossing ideas back and forth, give everybody a listen. Don't just sit through the rest of us yammering, while you wait until Saint David expresses his opinion."

Brenda chewed on her lower lip. "I am kind of apt to do that, aren't I?"

Andy nodded. "Sometimes. Not always, but sometimes."

"But now you have to admit you've had your share of foul-ups, too," she reminded him.

"Absolutely. There are days when I've been a complete horse's ass, and when I've not just dropped the ball, but dropped it and then fell over it, and you had to pull my tail out of the fire. And I appreciate it."

"You should. Dodgers' skybox tickets. Extra bodies in coffins. Drug-muling flight attendants. You ought to appreciate it."

"More than you know, Brenda, believe me. But I ask you: have I ever been involved in a screw-up like that on my own, without help from Provenza, that you know of?"

Brenda thought about it and giggled. "No, come to think of it, I haven't."

"There you go, then."

"So you're saying it's all Provenza's fault."

"No, it's at least half my fault for letting him talk me into crap I know I ought to walk away from. But that thing with Ray Hodge? Oh, my God. Nobody would have laughed harder about it than Ray. He woulda been thrilled to be buried with a blonde bimbo. But even after Maggie started smacking me in your office, I still felt sorry for her. The family deserved better, for sure."

Brenda looked sidelong at him. "I heard about that charming eulogy you gave at his funeral."

Andy sighed. "O.K. It sounded a hell of a lot better in my head, all right? Ray would have appreciated it, though."

"Sometimes, Andy, you just have no 'couth' whatsoever. I know you weren't raised in a barn though," Brenda said, just to pick at him.

He shrugged. "Worse. Jersey."

That got a grin and Brenda said, "You may have a point. I was just thinking about what I wanted to do today."

"Come to any conclusions?"

Brenda's grin turned vampish. "I think I'd just like to spend the rest of the day and all night in a bed. With you."

Andy raised his eyebrows at her and shook his head. "I ain't 21," he said. "Although I wish I'd known you when I could, I can't go all day and all night anymore. Don't work that way."

"I'm willing to test that statement. You've been right under my nose all this time, and I didn't appreciate you. I can't believe I didn't."

"I shoulda put the moves on you the minute you walked into that squad room the first time," Andy teased.

"If you had, I'd have probably slapped a complaint on you."

He leaned in toward her. "I don't think so. I'm really good at getting – cooperation."

"Is that how you got Floria Stenzel to flip on Rick Zuman?"

He grinned at her. "Now wouldn't you just love to know?"

"So it was coercion – just not the kind of coercion most people think about."

"I'll never tell. I'll keep you wondering about that one."

Brenda climbed in Andy's lap and turned to face him. "O.K. I'll admit it. You probably could have 'coerced' me if you'd tried when I first came to L.A." She kissed him. "I guess I'm just making up for lost time," she sighed into his neck. He slipped his arms around her and ran one hand down the length of her hair. "I just don't want to turn you loose," she said. "When I'm right here, it's like nothing can get to me. There's nothing outside that door. It's all right here."

"Unless your cell rang and it was a roll out to a case," Andy said, a little dryly.

"Not even then. I'd just let it ring. Or tell Gabriel I was sick or something."

Andy pressed his cheek to hers. "I should be flattered that you'd throw over a case for me," he said, his tone light.

"I'd do it, too." Brenda changed her position on the sofa, so she could pull Andy down to her. "Just hold me for a while. I'm tired of thinking and planning and worrying."

He cuddled her to his body. "What else did I have to do today, anyway?" he replied.

"I can't think of a single thing."

Brenda thought she might have died and gone to Heaven, just lying there in Andy's arms. He nuzzled her hair, scratched her back and caressed her arms. There was nothing sexual in anything he did. He was just holding her and loving her.

Andy, for his part, was happy just to hold Brenda. If being here with him could give her a little respite from what she had been dealing with, he was glad. He felt content and at peace when he held her like this. Maybe he could convince her to leave work problems at work more often.

After a little while, Brenda shifted so she could look up at Andy. "Andy, sugar, if I bought another house, do you think you'd like to live there with me?"

He looked a little – no, a lot – surprised. "Live there with you? Big, big step, Brenda." How had they gone from spending the night together to him moving in?

"I know, Andy, but I haven't even started looking for a house, yet. It could be months."

"That might not go over too well in the department," he reminded her. "What about Pope?"

Brenda snorted. "It wouldn't have bothered him a bit if you and that woman had gotten together. And it probably wouldn't bother anyone else, as long as we kept it professional at work. Will just thinks he's supposed to know every detail of my personal life, that's all."

Andy tipped Brenda's chin up to make sure she looked him in the eyes. "Doesn't answer my question. How would we handle it? You're still my boss."

Once again, it came home to Brenda that the prevarication and dancing around an issue that she did with Fritz (and Will) was not going to work with Andy. He asked a question, he expected a straight answer. He might let it go for a while, but eventually, he was going to get an answer.

"Brenda? How do we handle this?" Andy pressed gently.

"Oh, Andy. I don't really know yet. I'll think of something."

Andy shook his head. "That's not gonna work and you know it. Philippa would have a cow if she knew you were thinking about this."

"You won't tell her, will you?"

"You tell her or I will."

"Andy! You snitch!"

He laughed. "I told you, Brenda Leigh, it's a new ballgame with me. We are gonna be honest with each other. So, what do we do about this at work?"

"Lord, but you're persistent! Well, how about this? We don't say anything –for a little while," she hastened to add, seeing his narrowed eyes, "and then when the squad sees you don't get special treatment, they'll be all right with it. Especially if you tell them about it."

"Me? Your squad, Brenda."

"I know, but if you turn it into a 'guy thing,' I think they'll take it better coming from you. From me, it'll just sound like I'm making excuses or something, but from you, it sounds, you know, legit. You're one of the guys. You just naturally have more credibility with them than I do about something like this." She didn't sound happy about it, either.

Andy considered Brenda's words. She had a point. And he had a feeling it had cost her some pride to admit that to him. "O.K.," he said. "When the time comes, I'll tell them. But we'll have to be careful. Provenza knows we've been seeing each other, though."

"_What_? How did that happen?"

"Remember our little soap opera? I had to talk to somebody who understood the situation. My sponsor just sat there with his mouth open. But Provenza gets it. And for all his faults, he doesn't spread rumors. You ask him to keep it a secret, it stays a secret."

"Well, yes, that's true. Oh, Andy, why can't _something_ in my life go smoothly for once?"

He kissed the top of her head. "Because that's not the way life goes, babe. There's always a turn in the road, somewhere."

"Wonder if they have any openings for a professor of Criminal Justice at UCLA or USC?" Brenda said and sighed.

Andy chuckled. "You'd make a good one. So you'll be the professor and I'll still be out chasing bad guys? Yeah, right. You'd have that nose in the middle of my cases all the time."

"I don't think Fritzie ever had me figured out like you do," Brenda said.

"He only lived and worked _with_ you. He never had to work _for_ you. Makes a difference."

"Oh hush." She lifted her face to his and pulled him to her for a kiss. A thought occurred to her and she broke the kiss and looked keenly at him.

"What?"

"Who's better – me or that woman?"

"Better?" Andy feigned ignorance. Anything was preferable to getting into this conversation.

"Better. You know exactly what I mean. Better. Don't play dumb with me."

Andy shook his head. "You are absolutely not throwing me into that minefield. No way."

Brenda thumped his chest with her fist. "I want to know."

Strategy was called for here. Battle tactics. So, Andy rolled Brenda on to her back and said, "I'm with you, right? So don't worry about the rest." He followed this up by kissing her until she was out of breath.

"I want to know, Andy!"

"Tough. You don't always get what you want." He kissed her again.

A little voice inside Brenda's head – the one she rarely paid attention to – told her that even thinking such a thing was silly. Andy was here, in her arms. Why should she even care about Sharon Raydor? For once, she did pay attention to that little voice (and not the other, jealous one), and gave up that line of questioning, to Andy's intense relief.

She kissed him on his neck and throat and said, "Can I stay at your place again tonight?"

"Yeah, or I could come over here."

"Either way. I'm just not ready to sleep alone yet. Not after last night."

"The first part of last night, you mean," Andy gently corrected her, as Brenda kept kissing him.

"Yes. The last part was just fine," she breathed into his ear. "And the next morning was even better." She started unbuttoning his shirt. "Undoing a man's shirt is so sexy," she said. "Especially when I get what's underneath your shirt as my reward."

Andy gave her that wry grin that always made her heart turn right over in her chest. "Brenda, I'm tellin' you. I think you're expecting a little much here."

"I don't think so. I have faith in you."

"Good to know, but all the faith in the world don't matter when you're talking about biology."

She giggled. "I made an 'A' in biology, sweetheart."

"Then knock yourself out, but that may be the only thing that happens."

"Oh, I think I'll get pretty good results, myself. But I'll tell you one thing, Andrew Flynn."

"What's that?"

"I am real good at getting what I want. And I want you."

"Here I am," he answered.

"And here you are. Come here and kiss me again. Your kisses are so good."

Andy obliged her by taking her mouth again, supporting her head with one hand and holding her cheek softly with the other. She locked her legs around his waist and said, "There's a perfectly good bed in there."

"What's the matter with where we are?"

"Nothin' I don't guess. I just thought we'd be more comfortable there." Her hands found the fastening on his jeans and she had them unzipped quickly. She touched him and he closed his eyes. It felt too good.

Brenda laughed softly. "Andy, I think you're underestimating yourself. I foresee a pretty good outcome here." She raised them both up so Andy was sitting upright, her on his lap, and she pulled her T-shirt over her head. Then, in that motion that fascinates males everywhere, she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra.

He shook his head. "How do women do that? It took me months to figure out how to get a girl's bra off."

Brenda shook her head and grinned at him. "I always knew you were a randy little rascal. I'll bet there wasn't a girl in your high school who was safe."

"Only juniors and up. I did have some standards," Andy replied.

"I have to say, I wish I'd been one of them. I'll bet they still talk about you," she said.

"Yeah, and wonder why their dads didn't shoot me," he answered, bringing his hands up from Brenda's waist to her breasts. Silicone just didn't feel as good as the real thing, he mused.

She covered his hands with hers and said, "I think I want to do something just for you."

"What's that?"

"You hold still and find out," she commanded.

"Whatever you say."

Brenda slid down off the sofa to her knees and pulled his jeans and shorts down. "When was the last time you had a woman do this for you?" At his look, she said, "Don't answer that. I don't want to know. But I guarantee this will be the best you ever had. All you have to do is just enjoy it."

As her mouth and hands touched him, Andy leaned back on the sofa and could almost feel his eyes rolling back. She was good at this.

Brenda glanced up at Andy's face and felt a feminine thrill of power. She had put that look of complete ecstasy there. She didn't know if Sharon Raydor had done this for him, but she was intent on wiping out any memory of it. She could feel his body responding to her and she wanted to make him feel better than any other woman had. She knew she wanted him more than any other woman had ever wanted him.

"See?" she said. "I told you I made an 'A' in biology."

"Yeah, and you deserved it, too," he sighed in satisfaction.

Brenda climbed back into his lap. "Andy, I just want to stay right here."

"Works for me," he said, putting his arms around her again.

* * *

><p>Andy was semi-dressed and he and Brenda were still cuddling on the sofa, when the doorbell rang.<p>

Brenda started up. "Now who in the world is that?" she said. She quickly pulled her top over her head.

"Chief?" a voice called from outside.

"Oh Lord, it's David! What do you suppose has happened?" she hissed to Andy and louder, "Just one minute, Detective!"

"Damn," Andy muttered, buttoning his shirt as quickly as possible and pulling on his jeans in record time. He smoothed his hair and spied Brenda's bra on the sofa. He quickly stashed it under a sofa cushion. He motioned to Brenda and she slipped on a sweater to camouflage the fact she wasn't wearing a bra. Andy sat on the sofa, picked up a magazine from the end table and started thumbing through it.

Brenda opened the door. "Good afternoon, Detective. What brings you here?"

"Well, we've got a case and I couldn't raise you on your cell..." He turned to look in her driveway. "And isn't that Lieutenant Flynn's car in the drive?"

"Well yes, yes it is, as a matter of fact!" Her brain was scrambling wildly for a plausible excuse.

"Hi David," Andy called. "Chief was at the supermarket and her car wouldn't start. So she called me. And I'll bet she left her cell in her car."

Brenda put a hand to her mouth. "I'll bet I did too. It was hooked up to the charger. Oh, shoot!" Brenda remembered her cell was actually on the side table in Andy's bedroom.

"Did you have your car towed, Chief? I'll be glad to take you by the shop and let you get it," David said.

"Oh, no, that's not necessary at all. You go on to the scene and Lieutenant Flynn and I will meet you there. He knows right where the shop is, and I can just run by, grab my cell and we'll be there in two shakes!"

The explanation made perfect sense, but David Gabriel made detective for a reason. He knew something else was going on, and with Andy's car in the drive, he thought he knew what it was. But he couldn't prove a thing. He needed to talk to Provenza.

"Well, O.K., Chief. I'll see you and the Lieutenant at the scene. Here's the address." He handed her a slip of paper.

"Thank you, Detective. Thank you so much! We'll be right along! Just get everything started. You know how to do that."

"Sure, Chief. See you."

"Bye!" she said brightly and watched him pull away and shut the door with her back against it. "Oh my Lord, but that was close!"

Andy laughed in spite of himself. "If you'd just remembered your cell, this wouldn't have happened."

"Don't remind me." She looked around. "Where did my bra go?"

Andy produced it from under the sofa cushion and tossed it to her.

She grinned. "Thanks. Let me go get some other clothes on. I guess since you came up with that inspired story about my car breaking down, we can go in together and nobody will think anything." She went to her bedroom. Andy followed her.

"David's thinking, I guarantee you. He's not stupid. This is going to come out a lot sooner than you planned, Brenda, so you'd better be ready to deal with it."

She pulled her top over her head. "Why can't I just have a regular personal life like other people?" she said.

"As long as they don't work with the LAPD, you can."

She slipped on her shoes. "Well, when am I supposed to have time to meet anyone outside the department? And why would I want to? I have the one I want right here! I don't need to meet anyone else."

Andy grinned at her and took her by the shoulders when she finally got dressed. "I can still get that transfer to Hollywood Division and then it wouldn't matter what kind of relationship we've got. If we were in different divisions, it wouldn't matter."

Brenda's eyes widened. "No!" she exclaimed. "Please don't do that! We'll work it out where we are. I need you on this team. And I just need you around, period. We'll work it out."

"O.K.," he said. Brenda stood on her tiptoes for a kiss. He kissed her gently and said, "We've got to get going."

When they arrived on the scene, Gabriel looked carefully at his chief and at Flynn, but they seemed to be all business. Was anything actually going on? If so, how serious was it? Provenza had told him rather brusquely there was nothing to worry about, but Gabriel wasn't so sure. He had a feeling those two either were a couple now, or would be in the near future.


	10. Chapter 10: Not a Pretty Picture

**A/N:** Again, a delay, but hopefully, two chapters in one day (!) will make up for it. I broke it up because it was just too long as one chapter and there was a natural break, so there you are. When you R&R, it helps the chapters move along faster! :)

_Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer."_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10: Not a Pretty Picture<strong>

"All right, what do we have, Detective?" Brenda asked when she and Andy got to the murder scene.

"It's pretty bad, Chief," Gabriel said. "Four children, all under the age of ten. Looks like they were beaten to death."

"Oh my Lord. Do we have any suspects?"

"The parents, probably. When you get inside, you'll see why."

Brenda looked more than apprehensive and Andy said, "Chief, we can handle the crime scene."

Brenda took a deep breath. "Thank you, Lieutenant," she said, "But I suppose I need to see it for myself."

Andy shrugged at David. As they walked toward the house, Gabriel said, "So what's the matter with the Chief's car?"

"Guy with the tow truck said he thought it was the starter. They can probably get that replaced tomorrow."

Again, a perfectly rational, logical explanation. Starters often went bad without notice. And a one-day replacement time was reasonable. David looked over at Andy. He was pulling on gloves and shoe protectors. "You and the Chief have been seeing a lot of each other lately," David said.

Andy looked over at the detective. Yep, he knew he had been thinking. "I've been available. I'm usually home and I stay up late."

"That's true," David answered. And it was. He just couldn't shake the feeling that the Chief and Lieutenant were now more Brenda and Andy. Not knowing irritated him, but in his heart, where only he could see, he was a little worried that, if she and Flynn started dating, Brenda wouldn't rely on him as much. He knew he was her favorite. Would that change? That thought irritated him, too.

When they got inside, the smell was indescribable. Andy had a strong stomach, and had been to nearly every kind of crime scene imaginable, but the smell was unbelievable. Sanchez saw them come in and tossed Andy a small jar of menthol salve. Andy gratefully rubbed some under his nose and handed it to Brenda, who did the same. It didn't completely knock out the smell, but it did help bring it down to a level that enabled coherent thought.

With the smell issue controlled, Andy looked around. The house, to put it mildly, was a wreck. Garbage, filth, stuff, was everywhere. They went into the bedrooms and what they saw there nearly sent Andy back outside. Cages with thin blankets had been placed in the rooms. There were no toys, books or beds. Just cages – two in each of the "kids'" bedrooms. What looked like shackles had been bolted to the metal bottoms.

"Dog kennels," Sanchez said. "And look." In each room was a large plastic tub filled with cat litter and what was obviously human excrement.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," Andy said, and he crossed himself. Sanchez nodded.

"I did the same thing."

"And you've been to Mass since I have, I know," Andy replied, shocked to his very bones by the gruesome sight. He turned to Brenda. She had gone white in the face.

"I'm feeling a little unsteady on my feet, Lieutenant," she said, reaching for Andy's arm and hanging on in a death grip.

"I'm gettin' you out of here, Chief," he said. He led her down the hall and outside. "Deep breaths, Chief, O.K.?"

"What's going on? Is the Chief all right?" That was Provenza.

"Just freaked out by that house. So was I, I don't mind saying," Andy answered.

"We all were. Thank God this is one of those things you see maybe once in a career."

"Yeah. Otherwise, none of us would last a week at this job. You're fine, Chief. Keep breathing. Here. Let's get you somewhere you can sit down." He walked her to Provenza's car, which was nearby. "Sit down. I'll leave the door open so you can get some air."

Brenda sat and put a hand to her mouth.

"Are you all right?" Andy said.

She nodded.

"Don't move. If you need something, honk the horn. But don't you get up."

"O.K., Andy," she whispered.

Heedless of Provenza's presence, Andy kissed Brenda gently on the forehead and squeezed her hand. "I'll be back in a bit," he said.

As he and Provenza walked back to the scene, Louis said, "My friend, you've gone and fallen for Miss Atlanta."

"Well keep it under your hat, willya?"

"Of course, but answer me this: her car isn't in the shop, is it?"

"Nope. My place."

"So she came to you. Well, well. Where was her cell phone?"

"Nightstand."

Provenza chuckled. "Planning on letting anyone else know?"

"Eventually."

"Fine by me. You know that. Gabriel might have a little problem with it, though."

That got Andy's favorite "F" word in response and another snicker from Provenza.

"It's about time David Gabriel learned the Chief doesn't belong to him, anyway," Andy growled. "And we had a little talk about that, too."

"About Gabriel?"

"Sort of. Mostly about the Chief considering the opinions of people on her team besides his and Tao's."

Provenza looked impressed that Andy had bearded that particular dragon. "So what did she say?"

"Agreed I had a point and she'd watch herself."

"Good grief. Well, that can only be a good thing."

Andy nodded and turned his attention to the crime scene. "I guess the so-called parents have been arrested."

"Yeah, they're probably to the station by now."

He looked around. "Nobody heard or saw anything before?" he said. Provenza shook his head. "How could you keep four kids so quiet the neighbors didn't know they existed?"

"I'm afraid to find out," Provenza answered.

Tao came up to them. "Where's the Chief?"

"Sitting in my car. Scene really got to her," Provenza answered.

"Me too," Tao said. He was thinking about his own children. "Anyway, I've been doing a little research. Those children were adopted. And they were all special needs children." He showed Andy and Provenza the results on his iPad.

"Not state adoptions, I'll bet," Andy said. "These dirtbags never would have gotten past all the home visits they have to do."

"No, they were private adoptions," Tao said. "I'm running down the agency, or agencies now." He tapped on the screen of his computer.

Andy looked at it. "Handy gizmo to have at a crime scene."

"It sure is," Tao answered. "I'm tied in to all the databases, just like my computer at the department. And it's not as big as a laptop, even." He got an e-mail. "Oh, my God," he said.

"What is it?" Andy asked.

Tao shook his head. "M.E.'s initial examination of the bodies says he's pretty sure all three of the little girls were sexually abused."

Both Provenza and Andy hung their heads for a moment. "Why do people like this even get to live?" Andy said.

"Tao, go tell the Chief what we know and see where she wants us to go from here," Provenza said quietly.

He nodded. "Sure thing, Lieutenant."

"How did we even find out about this?" Andy asked Provenza.

"Neighbor saw the male outside, attempting to bury one of the bodies in the backyard, and she called us. Said she never knew they had kids."

"Some interviews these are gonna be."

"Don't count on it. They lawyered up the second the cuffs went on," Provenza said.

Andy rolled his eyes. "First they lawyer up, next they nut up. Bet me."

"I'm sure."

As they got back to the house, Gabriel was coming out, his eyes bleak. "I don't think I've ever…" his voice trailed off.

"Me either, David," Andy said. "How about we get the financials on these people and see how they afforded four private adoptions?"

"Will do, Lieutenant."

Sanchez came outside, as well. "There's really not a lot more we can do here. SID is all over the place."

Provenza said, "I agree, Sanchez. Let's get downtown and work this case."

Andy went to Provenza's car. "Come on Chief," he said. "We're going back to the department, all right?"

"All right. I can't believe I wimped out like that in there," she said. "I'm a little disgusted with myself."

"Don't be. We were all on the edge of wimping out, believe me."

She settled herself into Andy's car. They drove mostly in silence. Andy glanced at Brenda. She leaned her head against the seat and closed her eyes. When they got to the parking deck and Andy pulled into his space, he turned to Brenda. "Are you all right?"

"I will be once I get inside." She reached for his hand and pulled him close to kiss him. His kisses always seemed to chase the demons away.

"We need to get inside," he said.

"Yeah. I think I want to stay at your place tonight. We can go by the house, I'll feed Joel and pick up some clothes. Is that all right with you?"

"Sure," he answered, getting out of the car and opening her door for her. She got out and smiled her thanks at him before moving into his arms. "Brenda," he said softly, "someone is gonna see us. We've got to keep this kind of professional, at least until I can tell the guys."

"I know. I was just hoping to spend a Sunday out of this place, and since I had you, then with you."

"Well, we're still together. Just here together."

"I guess so. Well, let's go see about those awful, awful people."

"Yeah. Much as I'd rather not."

"Me either," she replied.

In the murder room, Gabriel already had the white board set up and was posting photos on it.

"Chief, I ran the financials on the Stinsons and came up with not much. But, Lieutenant Tao got a warrant for the complete adoption records and it turns out they didn't pay that much for the kids."

"And why is that, Lieutenant?" Brenda asked, turning to Tao.

"Because they were special needs children. Those kids are usually harder to place. People don't usually want the extra responsibility of a special needs child. So, the prices are a lot cheaper so people will consider them."

"Is that private agency licensed or anything, Lieutenant?" Brenda said.

"Not that we can tell. I got the records from the probate judge's office. They have to be filed there so the parents can get birth certificates, Social Security numbers, that kind of thing."

"What was the benefit to them, then?" Brenda asked.

Gabriel shrugged his shoulders and Brenda was almost ready to dismiss the question when Andy said, "Chief? Could be SSI benefits."

"SSI? What's that?"

"Supplemental Security Income. It's available to kids and adults who are disabled. Every eligible kid in the household gets a check every month. Some people have been known to live well on SSI."

"Especially when they're not exactly using the money to take care of the children," Brenda said. "That makes sense. But why kill them? That's the goose that laid the golden egg."

"Well Chief," Provenza put in, "Maybe it was starting to cost them more to keep than they felt they were worth. And it's a lot harder to hide older kids. But you don't have to report the children died. Keep getting the money that way."

Brenda shook her head. "Lieutenant Tao, first thing tomorrow, you get on the horn and find out if the Stinsons have applied for SSI benefits for these kids, and for any no longer living. Also, look and see if they ever adopted children before these. We may not get to talk to them, but I'm going to build a case around them that Harry Houdini couldn't get out of!"

The crew worked for another couple of hours until Brenda declared they had done all they could do without the M.E.'s findings and more information about the Stinson's status where SSI was concerned.

On the drive back to Brenda's house, a thought struck her and she giggled. "Andy?"

"Yeah, babe."

"What do you suppose David would have done if he had come in the house, found you on the sofa in your shorts and unbuttoned shirt, me dressed like I was and my bra and your jeans on the floor?"

Andy chuckled. "David would have had a frickin' coronary, that's what. He'd have been sputtering and muttering about regulations and crap. It would have been funny."

"That's kind of what I thought, too. Something about that disapproving look makes me want to do things to shock him, sometimes."

"I know what you mean," Andy replied, thinking of his idea of having sex with Brenda on his desk.

"Wonder what, oh, Tao would have done in the same situation?"

Andy thought about that. "Tao? Oh, he'd have looked around, gone all inscrutable on you, given you the address and walked out without a word. Then, as soon as he got to his car, he'd have called his wife to tell her."

"You think so?"

"Know so."

"What about Provenza and Julio?"

Andy laughed again. "Provenza would have looked around, said, 'O.K., you two. Playtime's over. Get dressed. We've got a case,' and that would have been the last we heard about it. Julio? Well, Julio wouldn't have noticed a thing at first. He'd have given you the message, _then_ looked around. Then he'd have gotten one of those Julio grins – you know the ones – and looked over at me and said, 'Niiiiice.' And he'd have gotten out of there and called Provenza."

Brenda laughed out loud. "You're probably right. But that's more fun to think about than it would have been if it actually happened."

"No doubt," Andy agreed.

They stopped by Brenda's house so she could pick up some clothes and feed Joel and then went to Andy's place. Brenda collapsed on his sofa with a sigh of relief. "Oh, I just feel safe here," she said. Andy sat beside her and she cuddled to him. "You know, Andy, I was thinking today. Fritzie and I had kind of an 'F or F' relationship."

"Really?" He'd always wondered, so this was confirmation.

"We did. It was kind of like we were always either making up from our last argument or going toward the next one. And did you know we had been engaged for a good while before he told me he was in AA, and more than that, it took that flap with the car insurance company and me finding out about his two DUIs for him to own up to it!"

"He didn't tell you about being in AA and you two were _living_ together?" Andy was really surprised about that.

"No, he didn't. And it really blindsided me. He eventually did, but only told me absolutely everything not long after you were attacked."

"Seriously?"

"Well, there was a lot I didn't want to know, so he hadn't said much. But after that meth head Smoker Broker case, he ended up telling me pretty much everything."

"Wow," Andy said.

"Wow what?"

He shrugged. "Well, everybody handles it differently, but it's kind of understood that honesty with yourself and the people around you is one thing that helps keep you sober. So, it's more or less a given that you'd talk to someone you were in a relationship with about it. You might not tell them everything, but you'd want them to know you were in AA, just out of a sense of honesty. I mean, you not knowing about the DUIs before you went to the insurance company? Even if someone wants to be kind of low key about it, still, that's just not a good way of living sober principles. Not being disrespectful, but it's not how I'd have handled it, that's all."

"I know. You told me straight out. No hiding."

"Hiding gets you nowhere. And in the program, one of those little sayings goes, 'We're only as sick as our secrets.' So secrets don't work too well in recovery, for the most part."

"So how did you get sober?" Brenda asked.

"Come with me some night when I'm giving my qualification, and you can hear the whole story."

"Qualification?" She looked puzzled.

"Yeah. Some people call them 'drunkologues.' Like a monologue, y'know? Sort of what 'qualifies' me as an alcoholic. But it's the same old story. I was on the verge of losing my job, I'd lost my family and I hit bottom. You know, the night I was attacked, I had given my qualification at that meeting."

"Really? My goodness. Well, I'm so glad you're sober now."

"Me too, sweetheart. I didn't like that guy and you wouldn't have, either."

"I'll have to leave early tomorrow morning. My appointment with Philippa is at 8:30. It's the only available time she had this week."

"So what are you going to tell her?"

"About us? The truth. If I expect her to help me, I have to tell her the truth."

Andy laughed. "Yeah, that's kind of how it works. She's not gonna like it, though. I have a funny feeling she might try to put it on me."

"Oh, Andy. She won't. I told you she likes you."

"Maybe so," he said, his tone non-committal. "Changing the subject, I was gonna call a delivery place for some dinner. Anything in particular you want?"

"Anything is fine with me. I like the Chinese, oh what do they call it? Happy family?"

"Yeah, that's it. O.K. That works for me, too."

When the food arrived, Brenda asked Andy, "So what did you get?"

"Tofu with spicy black bean sauce."

"Oh. Is that good?"

"Have a bite and see," Andy answered, pushing the box toward her.

Brenda took a bite and nodded. "Pretty good."

Andy took her happy family box and fished out a shrimp with his chopsticks. "That's good, too" he said.

"So why did you become a vegetarian, anyway?" she asked.

"Mostly to get some weight off. The last couple of years I drank, I'd packed on some pounds. So, when I quit drinking, I went the whole health nut route. But I got tired of being a total vegan. I walked around hungry all the time."

"And when you're hungry, you're mean," Brenda quipped.

"No kidding. My buddies all told me that would pass, but it didn't. So, I decided I'd eat some dairy, eggs, fish. I felt so much better after that," Andy explained. "My doc said my B12 was probably low, but I took supplements. Go figure. I guess some people just deal with it better than other people do. I don't. In California, you can eat vegan fairly easily, just because it's California. But when I'd go home to Jersey, and my sister would cook one of my Grandma's recipes, and I'd tell her I didn't need to eat it, well, it didn't go over too good. Then, I'd eat it and feel better physically, but I'd feel so guilty. I talked to my sponsor about it and came to the conclusion that I didn't need any more guilt on my shoulders, so I needed to eat the way that worked for me, regardless of how anybody else felt about it, and get rid of the guilt. So, that's what I did."

"Makes sense to me. You know, I guess I never thought about how complex addiction and recovery are."

Andy shook his head. "It is. We say stopping drinking is simple, but it's not easy. You can always not take a drink, but you have to deal with the issues that you're avoiding by drinking. So it gets complicated."

"Why do you need sponsors, though? I don't guess I ever really understood that. Just to have someone to talk to?"

"Partly. But mostly it's because an addict's thinking is totally screwed up. It's backwards. We blame, we don't see things like non-addicts. So, we need someone with more recovery, who can be objective and remind us that we don't have to do things like addicts. Me being vegetarian, for example. One reason I stayed on a vegan diet so long, even though I was miserable, was because I had all these vegan friends, and I was trying to please them. People-pleasing is a big no-no. My sponsor saw it when I didn't, and had to clue me in that I was doing that. He pretty much told me if I continued down that road, that bourbon was vegan, too."

Brenda laughed. "Meaning you might still be eating vegan, but you'd also be drinking again."

"Exactly. I'm not dissing vegans, now. No way. Just saying it wasn't the right road for me. My issues with it were between my ears, not anyone else's. But it's instinctive with a lot of addicts to do the people-pleasing thing. We don't even realize that's what's going on until someone points it out. So that's one reason why we need sponsors."

"So people who aren't addicts are not usually people-pleasers?"

"No way," Andy answered. "They just don't have the addiction to complicate it. Gabriel is a complete people-pleaser. But it's focused. On you. If you're happy, he's happy. Provenza, on the other hand, wants to do a good job, and wants you to be satisfied with his work, but if you're not happy, he doesn't take it personally. Unless you make it personal. He lets it roll off, otherwise."

"Yeah, he does," Brenda said. "I've noticed that."

They finished eating, cleaned up the kitchen and Andy stretched and yawned. "I'm beat. I lost some sleep last night, so I'm gonna hit the hay. You can stay up as long as you want."

"I may watch the news, but I'll be there shortly. Can't believe the night owl is going to bed so early."

"The night owl hooted half the night last night," he teased. He kissed Brenda and went to the bedroom.

Brenda did watch the news, mostly to see what the TV people were saying about their child murders. The reporter who covered the story was a news veteran, so he got the story right, but it was just as disturbing on TV as it had been in real life. Brenda knew what was inside that house. She shuddered and went to put her pajamas on. Andy was asleep when she went into his bedroom, and she tried to get in bed carefully, so she wouldn't disturb him, but he'd been a cop too long not to wake up. He reached for her and said, "Come here, babe," and snuggled against her.

Delicious. It was the only word Brenda could come up with right then that described the feeling of sleeping in Andy's arms.


	11. Chapter 11: The Evil We Do

**A/N:** Yep, as promised, TWO chapters in one night! Can't quite believe it, myself. A little goodness here, for those of you who are interested in that sort of thing. ;) Help out a poor writer and R&R! I appreciate it!

_Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer."_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11: The Evil We Do<strong>

Soft kisses on Brenda's neck woke her up the next morning. "You've got an 8:30 appointment, babe," Andy said.

She stretched and looked over at Andy, who was up and had obviously showered. He kissed her and she inhaled the most wonderful fragrance of his damp skin and hair and soap. She ran her fingers through his hair and said, "You smell so good."

He chuckled and kissed her again. "Go get your shower. I'll have some coffee ready when you're done."

"Oh, all right. I'm telling you, though: if I didn't have that appointment, you wouldn't get out of this bedroom."

"You're nearly right. I'd carry you to the shower and wash your hair for you."

Brenda grinned at Andy. "I'm going to hold you to that one of these days."

He gently pinched her bottom and said, "Go on."

Brenda got up and kissed him once more. "You Italians. You're pinchers," she said, trotting out that old myth.

"So sue me," he replied, eyes twinkling.

Brenda came into the kitchen to find Andy looking through the newspaper and drinking his coffee. He looked up as she came in. She was wearing tailored black slacks and a matching blazer, with a pink blouse.

"Lookin' good, babe," he said. "That's new, isn't it?"

She smiled. "Andy, you're the only man I know who would notice. But yes, it is new."

"I like it. But let me know when you're wearing it. I don't need to wear my black suit and pink shirt on the same day."

Brenda giggled. "That would be guaranteed to start rumors, wouldn't it? So what are you wearing today?" He had on his pajama bottoms, still.

"I dunno. Navy suit, maybe."

Brenda went to put her arms around him from behind. "Then you'd better expect me to watch every move you make today. That navy suit is my favorite."

"I'll send an e-mail to Mr. Armani and let him know."

"Armani. You're kidding me, right?" How on earth could Andy afford an Armani suit?

He laughed. "Would you believe I found that suit at a consignment store, of all places? One of the captains in Hollywood Division gets all his suits there and told me about it. It's in Beverly Hills, and they say all the celebrities get rid of their old clothes there. Course, 'old' to a celebrity means it was never worn and stayed in their closet too long." He laughed.

"I'll have to check it out," Brenda said. "Maybe I can pick up something with a designer label on it."

"It's where Sharon Raydor got that Prada purse she carries. I ran into her in there the day she bought it. That was before she made captain and I mean, who besides Delk makes that kind of money in the LAPD?"

"Sharon Raydor in a consignment shop? Well, well. So how much did she pay for that purse?"

Andy thought a moment. "No idea. But it couldn't have been a lot. I paid like $100 for that suit, and I dunno how much Armani suits run, but it's way over $100."

Brenda's mouth dropped open. "That's how you look so good all the time. I wondered how you afforded it, to just be tacky about it. Do you get your shirts and ties there, too?"

"A lot of them, yeah. I mean, they clean everything before they sell it. I've picked up shirts there for $10 and ties for $5. A lot of officers in the Hollywood Division go there for their work clothes. And it's really kind of necessary. You know, some of the people you work with in that area don't respect you if you're not dressed well. It's BS, but it opens a lot more doors in that part of town when your clothes look good."

"I don't suppose I ever thought of it that way. Well, I don't have to worry about that, since I don't plan on transferring to that division." She checked her watch. "Shoot. I'd better get going. See you at the office."

"All right," he answered, pulling Brenda close for a kiss.

"Good thing I hadn't put my lipstick on yet," she teased.

* * *

><p>"Well, Philippa, I made it twenty-four hours," Brenda said as she greeted her therapist and seated herself.<p>

The woman looked a little puzzled and then rolled her eyes. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Nope." Brenda recounted the details of her drive to Andy's place and what happened.

"Well, I thought you'd hold out a little longer than that, but I'm not surprised," Philippa answered. "You're besotted with him."

"Besotted," Brenda mused. "Yes. That's a good word to use."

"O.K. So I guess my next question has to be how did the two of you handle it afterward?"

"Pretty well, really. Andy did set me straight on a couple of things, though."

"Like what?" Philippa couldn't wait to hear this.

"He said I wasn't going to 'hoodwink' I believe was his word, him like I did Fritzie, and that we were going to be honest with each other. He said Fritzie let me get away with a lot because he didn't like the conflict, but Andy said he's not going to do that. He said I wasn't going to manipulate him like that."

"Wow. How did that make you feel?"

Brenda cocked her head. "A little mad at first, then a little scared. I mean, if I can't use all the tactics I've usually used on men on Andy, how do I deal with him?"

Philippa laughed. "That's a great question to ask yourself. Any answers?"

"I don't know. Just try to be honest with him, I guess. And Philippa, he can see right through me! He _knows_ when I'm running a scam on him. He said it's because he's worked for me and not just with me, like Fritzie."

"He's probably right. So, how are you feeling about being with a man who laid his cards out on the table like that?"

Brenda shrugged. "It's kind of comforting, in a way. No head games. I just have to learn not to play them, either."

"What about your working relationship?"

"We decided to keep it on the QT for right now, and when the other guys have enough time to figure out Andy doesn't get special treatment, then he's going to tell them. As much as I hate to admit it, the guys will take it better coming from him than from me. He's one of them."

"That bothers you. Why?" Philippa asked.

"Because I'm the boss, but I want to be 'one of the guys' too. It's a tough line to walk sometimes."

"I'm sure it is. I saw the story on the news this morning about the child murders. Is that your case?"

"Unfortunately."

"Let's talk about some things surrounding it, then. It's uncomfortable territory, but I want to find out how you deal with difficult cases like this one."

* * *

><p>When Brenda came into the murder room, she greeted her squad and went into her office. She was preoccupied with what was next for the Stinson case and hadn't noticed Andy. Or maybe he hadn't been at his desk right then. She looked for him. No Andy. Where was he? About that time, he came in from the break room with a cup of coffee. He had on the navy suit. Oooh, that stinker. Light blue shirt and matching tie. She wasn't going to be able to keep her mind on a single thing today.<p>

_I really have to keep this professional_, Brenda kept telling herself. She couldn't walk around all day, just drooling over Andy like a teenager. She supposed, once they had been together a while, the novelty would wear off a little, that she would be sufficiently annoyed at him for not taking out the garbage, or leaving his socks on the floor, or squeezing the toothpaste tube from the middle, or something equally unromantic, and she wouldn't follow him with her eyes all the time. She understood the day-to-day messy details of living with a man, and all the stuff you just got used to dealing with. But then, there was Andy. He blew her rulebook out of the water. She sighed and pulled a Reese's cup out of her drawer and ate it meditatively. It was a chocolate and peanut butter kind of morning.

Gabriel knocked on her door. She motioned him inside. "How's the car, Chief?"

She remembered she was supposed to have had a breakdown the day before. "Oh, it's fine. It was the starter. They got to it first thing, so I have it back now."

"Just the starter went bad?" he asked.

Brenda looked confused and played the "I'm not a mechanic" card. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Detective! You know I don't know the first thing about all that mechanic mumbo-jumbo. I know where the key goes, where the gas goes and how to turn on the air. That's as far as I get."

Gabriel nodded. That was all too true. She and Flynn had arrived separately, hadn't so much as spoken to each other this morning. Why couldn't he shake the feeling there was a _lot_ more going on between them than met the eye? "Well, glad they got it fixed for you so quickly, Chief."

"Oh, I am too! I'll be out there in just a few minutes. I just need to go over this thing that Chief Pope left on my desk." _And eat that other Reese's cup_, she thought. She was going to need a lot of chocolate to get through the next few days, she could tell.

"Oh, O.K. We'll have some information for you."

"Thank you, Detective," she chirped. As soon as David left her office, she tore the other peanut butter cup out of its wrapper and chewed furiously on it. Andy had just stopped at Sanchez' desk to look at something. He bent over to see it better and his backside was to her. Oh, good Lord. She was going to gain ten pounds by the end of the week. She knew she was. She narrowed her eyes at him. The very minute they got to his place, or her place, or wherever they ended up tonight, the very _second_ the door closed, that suit was coming off his body. No excuses. She shook her head and started looking over the file Pope left.

A few minutes later, Andy peeked in. "Session go O.K.?" he asked.

"Just fine. You're wearing that navy suit."

He smirked. "Gotta wear something. Can't come to work in my skivvies. Much as you'd like that."

"Oh, you," she said. "What is it?"

"Do not freak out, but I'm having lunch with Captain Raydor. You can come along if you'd like."

Brenda scowled at him. "I wouldn't care to, thank you. And I can't believe you're doing that."

"Brenda," Andy said warningly. "I didn't have to tell you. But I wanted you to know."

"I know it. I just don't understand how she could be remotely interesting."

Andy chuckled. "Look babe. Wouldn't you rather have the FID on our side, for a change? Call it strategic diplomacy."

Brenda rested her chin on her hand. "Oh, all right. Have a nice lunch, then."

Andy shook his head. "We're making some progress on the Stinson case. Got some stuff you'll want to know about."

"Thanks. I'll be there in a second."

He grinned at her and walked out.

David looked up. The Chief looked annoyed, which was standard after she'd talked to Flynn. He, on the other hand, looked a little smug, as if he'd just gotten one over on her. David just couldn't shake that funny feeling.

Brenda finally came out into the murder room and walked to the white board. "All right, what's the latest?"

Tao spoke up first. "Chief, we have SSI records for two children before these four. Those benefits were terminated in May of 2009. In August of the same year, benefits commenced for these children."

"Do we know why the benefits on the first two children were terminated, Lieutenant?"

"Apparently, the children were killed in an automobile accident that left Mrs. Stinson injured, as well."

"Yeah, I'll just bet it was an accident," Brenda spat. "But you know, I can ask them about those two children. They're not under arrest for that 'accident.' What else?"

"Chief," Sanchez said, "we were able to get a better handle on the financials this morning, since the federal government is open for business. The Stinsons' financials also show Mrs. Stinson is receiving disability. But, they managed to go on a cruise last fall to Puerto Vallarta."

"No doubt leaving those poor children to starve while they were out partying," Brenda said.

"Probably would have been for the best if they had starved, Chief," Andy said. He held up a folder. "Just got this. M.E. said the girls had suffered, and I quote, 'repeated sexual trauma.' The boy's body has numerous scars consistent with cigarette burns. They were all dehydrated, malnourished and underweight for their ages. And the kicker? Stomach contents showed canned dog food." He shook his head, anger in every line of his body.

This was the first any of the squad had heard of the M.E.'s report. A clerk had just put it on Andy's desk while he was in Brenda's office. Silence descended over the murder room at this information.

Brenda put a hand to her mouth. "Dear God in heaven," she said. "If there's such a thing that's worse than being a monster…"

"Yeah. 'Monster' doesn't even touch these two," Andy agreed.

"All right. Well, Lieutenant Provenza, get them up here to the interview room. Let's see if I can get them to talk about their other two children. And if their attorney shows up, send him in." She snorted. "Who in God's name would take this case?"

"Public defender," said Tao. "They invoked, but didn't have an attorney."

"Well, that figures. All right. I want the rest of you listening in, in case I need you to check on something."

"Will do, Chief," Gabriel said.

When the Stinsons got to the interview room, Brenda went into the electronics room to have a look at them. How could they look so normal? But that Leon Stinson, now. He had something odd about his eyes. He gave Brenda the creeps. She wanted her muscle in with her for this interview. "Lieutenant Flynn, with me, please."

"Yes, Chief," he answered. He wasn't altogether sure he wanted her in there with them at all, but he would rather be there than someone else.

As soon as Brenda entered the room and introduced herself, Leon said "We don't have to talk. We've asked for an attorney."

"Mr. Stinson, I'm not asking you about the bodies of the four children found at your home. I want to know about the car accident in 2009. Our records indicate your wife was injured. What happened?"

"She lost control of the car and hit a telephone pole. She had head injuries and our two children were killed."

"Mrs. Stinson, is that correct?"

The woman nodded. "I had head injuries and our two children were killed."

Andy narrowed his eyes. He was starting to get the idea, now.

"I see," Brenda said. "Mr. Stinson, how has your wife recovered since the accident?"

"She's on disability and has short-term memory issues, don't you dear?"

"I have short-term memory issues and I'm on disability," Myra Stinson parroted her husband.

"Mrs. Stinson, are you in therapy for your injuries?" Brenda asked.

"I am in therapy for my injuries."

Brenda looked at Andy. He motioned to the door. She followed him outside and around the corner. "You know what's going on, don't you, Chief? She was injured, but can't take care of herself. Seedy, private adoption service, good old Leon adopts the kids and treats them how he wants. She's in no position to understand. I'd be surprised if she knows where she is."

"I think you're right, Lieutenant. She needs as much help as those poor children did. She's not competent."

"No, which means Leon swings all by himself on this one," Andy replied.

"Also means I can't question her directly if she's not competent. She doesn't understand what's being said, or her rights. I need to get the department psychiatrist on this one." She went into the electronics room. "Lieutenant Tao, get the department psychiatrist in the interview room, and get DDA Garnett and the Stinsons' miserable little attorney in my office."

"Yes Chief," he answered.

As she and Andy walked out of the electronics room, Brenda looked up at him. "How in the world did they take a cruise with Mrs. Stinson in her condition?"

"She stays in the room, he parties," Andy answered.

"We used to hang his kind," Brenda said.

Andy nodded. "Not a bad idea."

* * *

><p>When the company was assembled in Brenda's office, she said, "All right, Mr. Murphy. Our psychiatrist has examined Myra Stinson and is of the opinion she is not competent. This means she is not liable, and we will be dropping the charges against her. Deputy DA Garnett is already looking into having her declared a ward of the state, if we can't locate her next of kin, so she can be cared for properly. That leaves only Leon Stinson. Mr. Murphy, we have the weapon he used to bludegon those children to death – with his fingerprints. We have an eyewitness who saw him attempting to bury the bodies. We have all the physical evidence from the children's bodies themselves that attest to the unbelievable torture he subjected them to, and their neglect. Have you read the M.E.'s report? If not, I suggest you do so. I hope you find it as completely horrifying as my squad and I did."<p>

Murphy looked around, a little lost. "Well? I still have a client to defend," he said. "Leon isn't what I'd call competent, either."

Andy's hunch had been right on the nose. Lawyer up, then nut up.

Garnett said, "And the people are prepared to offer life in prison in a supermax facility, with no chance of parole, with a full confession. Otherwise, you can roll the dice with the jury seeing all this evidence, and hope insanity holds up. The odds are way against you on an insanity plea. You know that, Murphy."

"Mr. Murphy," said Brenda. "I commend you for wanting to put up a vigorous defense for your client. But the noose is tightening around his neck with every piece of evidence that turns up. And we're finding lots and lots of evidence. Have you seen the crime scene photos yet?"

Murphy sighed. "Look. I'll talk to Stinson again. I advised him yesterday that confessing might be his only way out, that I could mount an insanity defense, but those are chancy. He said nothing doing. He was going free or nothing. Makes you wonder about his competency right there, huh?"

"Offer's on the table until 5 p.m., Murphy. If Stinson knows what's good for him, he'll confess and take the deal," Garnett said.

* * *

><p>"She's done it, hasn't she?" Sharon asked Andy over lunch.<p>

"Done what?"

"Snagged you. I don't remember you looking quite so smug after we got back from Monterey."

Andy shook his head. "Sharon, can we just have lunch and talk about normal stuff?"

She nodded in acquiescence. "All right. I hear that Stinson case is a real bitch."

"Go look at the murder board. Oh my God. I thought I had a strong stomach until I walked into that house yesterday. Closest I've come to tossing my cookies over a case since I was a rookie."

"I heard one of the uniforms talking about it this morning in the break room. What's the status?"

"Fess up or nut up. Garnett offered life, no parole for a confession, but the defender says he's not sure Stinson isn't crazy. Well, it's obvious he's crazy, but he's competent to stand trial. His wife's brain is oatmeal since she had that accident in 2009, so she's not competent, but he sure as hell is. Some shrink is gonna try to say otherwise, I know, but I don't think a jury will buy it after seeing the crime scene photos."

Sharon rolled her eyes. "Anything to avoid being responsible. An officer in Central Division slapped his wife at a restaurant and now he's saying he isn't responsible because he had roid rage."

"Really? Does the LAPD even have anything about juicing in the regulations?"

"It's open to interpretation. Does it fall under the 'illegal substances' rule? They're schedule III drugs, so they can be prescribed, but if he obtained them illegally, then that statute could apply. That way, he could go to rehab and keep his badge. Domestic violence? Not so certain. It's a gray area all the way around." Sharon made the universal "so-so" motion with her hand.

"Somehow I managed to keep from ever hitting a woman, even when I was drunk off my ass. I don't get it," Andy said.

She shrugged. "Some men don't have a problem with it, obviously," she replied, and looked at Andy. "Did you tell Brenda we were having lunch?"

"Yep."

"Did she go postal?"

"Not really. Not thrilled about it, but she was mostly O.K. She's coping by eating chocolate." He laughed. "Provenza said there was a pile of candy wrappers a foot high next to her desk where she missed the trash can."

"That's just a little sad." She nudged his knee with hers under the table. "You're a complete man pig, but I have to say I envy Brenda."

Andy grinned at her. "Well, I'd rather get in a car with you driving, that's for sure. Brenda makes me nervous. She gets distracted too easily."

"There's a shocker," Sharon deadpanned and Andy laughed.

"When her parents were here, Clay, her dad, told me she was a little, 'flighty,' and patience was called for."

"Some of those Southern expressions are so apropos. 'Flighty' just about covers it," Sharon answered. "So what are you going to tell the squad about you and Brenda?"

"Nothing for a little while. Let them see it's business as usual, first. Then I'll tell them."

"Makes sense. Has she told Pope?"

Andy shook his head. "No, and that's her job to do. Not mine. Didn't you two go out a while back?"

"Yeah. It was nice. No fireworks, though." She nudged Andy again with a smirk.

"Sorry to hear that."

"I'll bet."

"C'mon Sharon, I'd love to see you find a great guy and be happy."

"Maybe so."

* * *

><p>Brenda was on pins and needles most of the afternoon, waiting to see what Leon Stinson's decision would be. She wanted that confession, but if he chose to go to trial instead, it would all have to come out in court.<p>

About 4:30, Garnett knocked on her door. She answered it. "Well?" she said.

He shrugged. "Said he'd see me in court. Looks like they're going for the insanity plea."

"Shoot! I wanted that confession real bad, too." She went to her candy drawer and extracted a truffle. She ripped the wrapper off and bit into it. As she chewed, she said, " I just wanted to see that jerk's face when I made him try to justify to me what he did to those poor children!"

Garnett shook his head. "I know, Chief. But look at it this way: when the jury finds him guilty and not insane, it's special circumstances and you know I'm asking for the death penalty on this one."

"A needle in his arm is too good for him," Brenda said.

"I agree. But that's the law, and you know it."

"I know, I know. Doesn't mean I have to like it, though."

"Me either. But if you'll get your people to box up all the evidence and finish up the murder book in the next couple of days, my office will take it. Oh — and Mrs. Stinson has been declared a ward of the state until her family can get here. She'll be transferred to a state facility where she can get some care. Looks like she needed some medical attention, too."

"I'd like to see Leon Stinson get some attention, let me tell you. All the attention he can handle. And then some." Brenda's tone was bloodthirsty.

"See you later, Chief," Garnett said.

"You too, Mr. Garnett." She flopped into her chair. "OOOOOHHHH!"

Andy was standing in the doorway. "What's up, Chief?"

"My preachers always said there was a literal, fiery, burning hell. I hope they're right, and I hope Leon Stinson is at the top of the list! I hope he burns, or rots or whatever happens to them. I hope the State of California actually gets around to executing him, and he suffers. I hope he suffers every day of his miserable life from now on!"

"Insanity plea, huh?"

Brenda nodded. "Of course. But this time, I don't think it'll work."

"Me either." He tossed Brenda something. She caught it. "Spare key to my place. Now you don't have to wake me up at 4 a.m. Come on when you're done here."

"O.K. Andy." She watched him walk out of the murder room and sighed happily.

Brenda spent some quality time when Joel when she got back to her place. She got some clothes together and felt a little thrill when she took her key to let herself into Andy's apartment. He was sitting on the sofa, absorbed in "The Sporting News," and grumbling to himself about the Dodgers' dismal season. He looked up as Brenda came in. "Your Braves are just four games out of first place."

"That's nice," Brenda answered. "Dodgers not doing too well, I take it?"

Andy rolled his eyes. "Almost in the basement. No pitching staff."

"Sorry about that."

Andy had kicked his shoes off and his jacket, but was still dressed. "Didn't know if you wanted to go to dinner or something," he said.

Brenda went to the sofa. "I'm not really hungry," she said.

"Too much chocolate today?" he teased.

"Oh, hush." She put her arms around Andy from behind the sofa and started loosening his tie. As she did, she kissed him behind his earlobes and the tie undone, started on his shirt.

"Is there a point to all this?" he said.

"Absolutely. Relaxation."

"So that's the term for it, huh?"

"Well," Brenda answered, coming around the sofa to sit on Andy's lap, facing him, "I expect that, eventually, we'll be very relaxed."

"Probably," Andy said, pulling Brenda close for a kiss. In a moment, her blazer hit the floor. "Why should you have all the fun?" he said, as he unbuttoned her blouse. He tugged the blouse out from the waist of her slacks and as it opened, he raised his eyebrows at the bra she wore. It was a demi-cup, black, with nude lace accents. "Where did you get this?"

"Frederick's. Like it?"

"Oh yeah," Andy answered, running his thumbs across the lace that almost disappeared into her skin. An idea occurred to him, and he stood carefully, with Brenda's legs wrapped around him. He carried her into the bedroom, kissing her, and laid her carefully on the bed, then he slid her blouse off her shoulders and it went to the floor. Enough light came into the room from the den that he could see Brenda stretch her arms over her head, as he thought she might. Before she could react, he had his necktie off and used it to secure her wrists to the metal framework of the bed.

Brenda squealed like a 10-year-old who'd seen a snake. "What are you doing, Andy Flynn?"

He lay next to her and put his hand on her tummy. "You wanted to know if I'd actually tie you to the bed. There's your answer."

"I didn't _say_ you could do that!"

"I don't remember asking you."

"Untie me!" she ordered.

"Tell me something. Is this fear or control? If you're really scared or uncomfortable, the tie comes off. If it's control, then it's negotiable. Do you trust me?"

"Of course," she said, squirming.

His voice was a caress. "Are you scared of me?"

"No, I've never been scared of you."

"Are you afraid I'm gonna hurt you?"

"If I was, I wouldn't get within ten feet of you," she retorted.

"So you know I'm not going to hurt you, and you trust me, and you're not scared of me. Sweetheart,that's a control issue, then."

"Well, you can leave me like this, but it doesn't mean I have to like it."

"No, it doesn't." His lips came close to her ear. "But I'm betting you will."

"You're just a pig!" she exclaimed.

"Hmm. Second time I've been called that today. Must be something to it, then."

"Who else called you a pig?"

"Sharon Raydor."

"What were you doing to make her call you a pig?" Brenda was furious and suspicious.

Andy chuckled. "Not a thing. We were just sitting in the diner having lunch. That's all."

"Dammit Andy, untie me!" She was squirming.

He turned on the small lamp on the side table. "Come on Brenda. Work with me, here."

Her face screwed up into a pout. "Suit yourself, then." She deliberately refused to look at him.

Andy stood and slowly unbuttoned his sleeve cuffs. He shrugged out of his shirt. Brenda could see him in her peripheral vision and couldn't help but sneak a glance at him, shirtless, hands on his hips, just looking at her. Oh, why did he have to be so _sinfully_ sexy? He grinned, seeing her eyes flicker toward him, and he unzipped his trousers and stepped out of them. Another sneak peek. Navy boxer briefs. Now this was just not fair. She had completely forgotten when she nearly drove him crazy in her office with her low-cut dress, heels and red lipstick.

Andy hadn't forgotten, though. That vision had haunted his dreams at night, and he woke up in a cold sweat, his body pounding with need. A little torment was only right. He sat on the bed and unfastened her slacks and they joined her blouse on the floor. He then took one of her feet in his big hands and started massaging it gently. "Ever had your toes kissed, Brenda?" He suited actions to words.

No, this was definitely not legal, Brenda thought. She couldn't help it. When Andy took her foot in his hands, white-hot lust replaced the anger and seeing the devilish gleam in his eyes as he kissed her toes made her grip the bars of the headboard in frustration.

"I think you _like_ having your toes kissed," he said, his voice low and sexy. He took her other foot and gave it the same treatment.

Brenda never dreamed she could get this close to a climax when all he had done, essentially, was rub her feet. "You're makin' me crazy!" she panted.

"That's the idea, babe." He took the massage to her lower legs and thighs, then caressed her stomach, her shoulders, up her arms, but never touching her breasts – or anywhere else she really wanted him to. He kissed every inch of exposed skin on her body, but nothing covered by fabric.

The ache to have Andy kiss and touch her intimately was overpowering. But nothing doing, apparently. Not right this minute, anyway. He did kiss her lips, his mouth taking hers in heat and passion, but with tenderness, too. Then he started kissing her neck and earlobes, telling her how beautiful she was.

Brenda honestly thought she might lose consciousness. Her heart was pounding and every word Andy whispered in her ear, every time he ran his hand down her side, made her want him even more. What he made her feel was so incredible.

Andy was actually feeling a little proud of himself. He knew Brenda was going nuts, and that was just fine. He evilly wondered if she would tell her therapist about _this_. He wanted Brenda to stop thinking so damn much, and just allow herself to not be in control, for a change. He wanted them to be able to lose themselves in each other.

Brenda didn't know how long Andy had been kissing and touching her, but she could feel her bra fabric chafing against her too sensitive breasts, and she was trying to twine her legs with his, but nothing doing. "Andy, darlin', come on!"

He had her arm and was kissing her in the hinge of her elbow, his tongue and teeth teasing that spot where all the nerve endings lived. "Come on what?" he said softly.

"You know what! Save this for when we've got a weekend to ourselves."

"Why?"

"Because it's been two days and I'm desperate for you! Besides, my arms are starting to ache a little."

"Sorry about that, babe," he said, and immediately freed her hands.

Brenda lowered her arms and toyed with the idea of punching him in the nose for tying her hands, but remembered she loved him and wanted him to finish what he started. "Please, Andy. Touch me," she whispered to him.

As he did, he smiled against her skin. She was so wet and hot for him. Brenda felt Andy's skin under her hands, his fingertips teasing her and she pulled his head to hers so she could kiss him. When he finally got inside her, he just stopped, only kissing her. "Be patient," he said against her lips, as she nudged him with her hips. He started moving in tiny increments, intensifying the literal and physical ache Brenda was feeling.

Andy ached, too. But it was now a point of pride for him to last as long as he possibly could. He wanted to draw this out for Brenda and for himself. Slowly, his movements got faster, and Brenda was hanging on to him for dear life. As he moved faster and went deeper, she started moaning and screaming loud enough that Andy was a little surprised his neighbors didn't pound on the wall because of the noise. But he was to the point where it was let go or go home, and when he did, he could feel Brenda's body tightening around his, but he maintained enough consciousness not to collapse completely on top of her. It was a climax to remember. He looked at Brenda, who was still shuddering from her orgasm and he smiled.

She saw the smile and said, "You're worse than any pig, Andy Flynn, but I love you like everything."

"I'll call it a success then," he panted. "And by the way, I love you, too."

His words penetrated into her brain and she said, "Did you say what I think you just said?"

"I love you? Yeah, you heard me," he answered.

She sighed in happy satisfaction. "I'm so glad, sugar. I was starting to wonder," she answered, snuggling to him and falling asleep.

"Yeah, me too," he whispered. He was hungry, but a nap first sounded much better. His eyes fairly slammed shut. They were definitely relaxed now.


	12. Chapter 12: Confessions

**A/N:** You were wondering about chapter 12? Me too. I hit a wall called writer's block. A few ideas are churning for the next chapter, so we'll see. Enjoy, and please do R&R! I read and appreciate every one!

Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer."

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12: Confessions<strong>

The feeling of hands on her skin woke Brenda. She opened one eye. She was lying on her stomach and Andy was massaging her shoulders and back. It was heavenly. "I love waking up with you, Andy," she murmured. She heard him chuckle in response.

"You're one up on both my ex-wives, then," he answered.

"Your ex-wives are both idiots."

"Thanks for the compliment, but I know I'm not easy to live with."

Brenda craned her neck around to look at him. "Sure you are. They just didn't know how to keep you happy."

"And how do you do that?" he said, smiling.

She pointed at the mattress. "Keep you right here and you stay happy. Nothin' to it."

"That easy, huh?" he laughed.

"It's that easy. You're a man and all men are happiest right here. So, either keep you here, or keep you thinking about the last time you were here, or the next time you'll be here, and you're happy."

"You've got it all figured out, don't you?"

"Yep. Absolutely."

"I'll tell you though, I could use some dinner. I could eat a horse."

"I'm not a bit hungry," Brenda sighed.

Andy stood and stretched. "Well, you can live on love if you want. _I'm_ callin' out for pizza!"

* * *

><p>"Lieutenant Provenza, are you sure there's nothing going on between the Chief and Lieutenant Flynn?" Gabriel was obviously concerned.<p>

Provenza glared at the younger man. "Son, didn't your Mama teach you about sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong?"

David sighed in frustration. "But Lieutenant, it's a rank issue! Isn't there something in the LAPD handbook about subordinates dating superiors?"

"Why are you so worried, Detective? Have you seen either Flynn or the Chief act inappropriately with each other?"

"No."

"Can you say she's been showing Flynn any kind of favoritism?"

Gabriel shook his head. "No."

"Then why are your shorts in such a wad? You can't say for sure there even is a relationship, can you?"

"Well, no Lieutenant, but..."

Provenza interrupted him. "Then take my advice and leave it alone, Detective."

"But sir!" Provenza held up a hand and turned to his newspaper.

David looked at Tao, who flipped his reading glasses on his nose and busied himself on his computer. He glanced at Sanchez, who drew his finger across his throat in the universal "cut" gesture. He sighed again, and wondered if he needed to talk to Pope.

He happened to see Tao in the break room a little later, and Tao said, "David, take some advice from a friend. Don't go over the Chief's head on this one. If you do, she'll hand you yours on a silver platter."

"But Mike, are she and Andy dating?"

"I don't know. They've been very cool about it if they have been. But it isn't your place to be the morality cop. Chief Johnson's been widowed five weeks. If she needs someone, are you going to be the one to tell her she can't have the comfort and sympathy she needs because it doesn't jive with the department regulations? Come on, David! If I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous."

"Jealous? Are you kidding me? Jealous of what?" Now he was indignant.

"Of not being the teacher's pet anymore. You know the Chief depends on you for a lot. She trusts you. Sure you're not afraid of losing that position to Flynn? Give the Chief credit, David. She values every member of this team. You'll be fine."

"It's not that," David said.

"So what is it then? You're acting like you've got a little bit of a crush on the Chief. Are you upset because she called Flynn to her house during the break-in, and not you?"

"Of course not. Flynn was on rotation that weekend, and he was up. Everybody knows he stays up half the night."

Tao looked keenly at David. "Look. Give the Chief some space and time to get herself back on an even keel. If something's going on, we'll find out eventually, but let's do it on her schedule. She deserves that much consideration, don't you think? If we see that she's favoring Flynn or something, then we can speak up. Until then, give her some room. Flynn, too. And I'd do that just for my health. Say too much to him and you're apt to end up in the hospital. Just take it easy, David. We've all been through a lot the past few weeks, all right?"

"O.K., Mike. I will. But I can't keep from wondering."

Tao chuckled. "Put that curiosity to better use when we catch the next case, how about it?"

"Yeah, but why Flynn? I mean, come on!"

"What? You think you're so much better at your job than he is, don't you? He's not perfect, but is there a more tenacious bulldog in the division?"

"He's this close to being a vigilante! I mean, the Roy Wilkerson case? He didn't care about catching who killed that guy!"

"Yeah, and you didn't beat the hell out of Roger Stimple in an interview room, either, now did you? We've all stepped over the line at least once in our careers, David. Some time when you've got a minute, I'll pull up Andy's closed cases for you, and you can see for yourself how many really bad people he's helped put away. And have you ever seen him act like he's afraid of anything? I mean, look at when he was attacked. He was bleeding from wounds that required over 30 stitches to close. They gave him three units of blood at the hospital. And he still managed to fire two rounds into Bob Harris' chest. I saw the autopsy reports. Andy was bleeding from a wound in his nose, with blood trickling down into his eyes, and those shots in Harris' chest were less than a dime's width apart. And it was dark. I know I couldn't shoot that straight with those kinds of injuries. Could you?"

Gabriel shook his head. "I see your point."

"Good. And I'll remind you of one more thing you seem to have conveniently forgotten: If it hadn't been for Lieutenant Andrew Flynn and his cop instincts that morning five weeks ago, the Chief probably would have been dead along with Agent Howard. Remember that, David."

"Yeah, Mike. I will." Tao was right on the mark, as usual. It didn't make David feel much better, though. He wondered if Tao was right: did he have a crush on his chief?

* * *

><p>It was a little ironic that David found himself in the car with Andy two days later, since they were helping RobberyHomicide, trying to help Taylor and his division catch several little punks accused of robbing convenience stores.

It was coming on to dusk and they were driving down some back alleys, looking for anything suspicious. As they rounded one corner, they saw a group of what looked like teens gathered in a vacant lot. It was quickly obvious something was up, however. In the dimming light, Andy could clearly see a girl holding a branch or something that had been set afire. She was using it to keep about four other boys away from her. She clutched her top closed with one hand and waved the branch with the other at the boys trying to circle around her.

"What the hell?" Andy exclaimed. "Kill the headlights and let's get closer if we can." He grabbed the radio. "Dispatch, this is LAPD unit Delta 20. We need some backup at a vacant lot at..." He looked over at Gabriel, who consulted the car's GPS unit. He gave the dispatcher the address. "We have what looks like four teenage males menacing a teenage female. Roll an ambulance, as well."

"Copy that, LAPD Delta 20. Rolling backup and an ambulance to your location. LAPD dispatch out."

"Delta 20 out," Andy replied. "Now then. Let's go get these little assholes."

"Right behind you, Lieutenant," Gabriel answered.

They got out of the car, weapons drawn and ready. As they crept closer to the scene, they could hear the boys yelling obscenities at the girl, and could hear her defiant replies. Andy smiled grimly. That girl wasn't going to back down. Good for her. Then, the fire on the branch got too close to her hands and she was forced to drop it. Still, she pelted the boys with rocks and dirt. One finally rushed her and grabbed her in a chokehold. She struggled furiously and bit the boy's arm several times. He held her and another boy would have started punching her, when Andy and Gabriel came out of the shadows.

"LAPD! Let her go!" Andy barked.

The boys turned, stunned, as David grabbed two of them by their collars. Andy yanked the collar of the one still holding the girl, and threw him to the ground. "On your knees, punk!" he yelled at the other one. The boy complied.

Andy holstered his weapon and turned to the girl. His eyes widened. She might be 13. The boys surrounding her were all at least 16. "Are you all right, sweetheart?" he asked.

The girl flung herself at Andy and hung on to him for dear life, sobbing. He put his arms around her and smoothed her hair as Gabriel kept the little delinquents covered until the black and whites could arrive.

He tried to lead her to their car, but she refused to loosen her hold on him, so Andy swung her up into his arms and carried her to the car. He sat sideways in the front seat, with the girl in his lap. She had her face hidden in his coat. "What's your name, sweetheart?" he said. "My name's Andy."

"C-Corrinna," she answered, still hiccuping. Andy felt for the box of tissues David kept in the car for Brenda and handed some to the girl.

"Wipe your nose, now. It's all right. We're taking those scuzzwads to jail, O.K.?"

"O.K., Andy."

"Where's your mom?" he asked.

"At work," she whispered. "Those guys, they're my brother's friends."

"Where's your brother?"

"In the house. I think they hurt him," she sniffed.

"We'll check on him. An ambulance is on the way. Are you hurt?"

She nodded. "They, you know, but I got away."

Andy held the girl tighter as cold rage filled him. He never got used to males who thought they could commit violence against females.

The black and whites rolled in and Andy called one officer over. "She says those little jerks might have hurt her brother. She lives in the white house, just across the lot. Can you check it out?"

"Sure, Lieutenant," the officer said.

The EMTs came up and tried to treat Corrinna, but she wouldn't let go of Andy.

"Hon, you've got to let the medics see about you. They'll help you, O.K.? And I have to call your mom so she knows where you are." To one of the EMTs, he said, low, "She may have been sexually assaulted. Her name is Corrinna." The medic shook her head.

"Corrinna, sweetie, let me take a look at you," the woman coaxed the girl. "We'll get you to the hospital and the lieutenant will see you there, won't you?"

"You bet," Andy answered. He saw the uniform standing nearby. He gently placed the girl on the stretcher and said, "I've got to go, but I promise I'll see you at the hospital." She nodded.

Andy went to the uniformed officer. "What's up? Did you find the brother?"

The officer nodded. "Yeah. He was dead. Shot."

"Damn," Andy said. "Let me call my chief, then. Secure the scene and we'll have more people here shortly." He took his cell phone and dialed. "Hey Chief? Yeah, we got a body. His sister, a teenage girl, is on her way to Good Samaritan. Possible sexual assault. Gabriel can text you the address and call Sanchez. I'll call Provenza and Tao."

"Tell you what, Andy. You and I can do a brief walk-through and then we'll go see the girl at the hospital. All right?"

"Sounds good, Chief." He clicked off his phone. "Chief's on the way," he said to Gabriel. "Text her the address, and call Sanchez, would you? I'll call Tao and Provenza."

"O.K., Lieutenant," Gabriel said.

Once the team assembled, they walked through the house and Brenda issued orders. When she finished, she said, "O.K. Lieutenant Flynn and I are headed to the hospital to talk with our victim and her mother. We'll see you all back at the department. I want everyone to be able to be home by midnight, if we can manage it."

As they drove to the hospital, Andy filled Brenda in on the situation. "I guess we'll know more about whether Corrinna was actually raped when we talk to the doctor," Andy said. "Gabriel made sure the EMTs had the mom's contact information so they can call her. God, I hate cases like this. A son murdered, a daughter assaulted. What the hell gets into these kids?"

"The devil," Brenda firmly said. "Only thing I can think of, anyway."

"Something," Andy concurred.

When they arrived at the hospital, they talked to the doctor first. "Definitely sexual assault, but the mother gave consent to do a full rape kit, and since she hadn't showered or changed clothes, we should be able to get a lot of evidence."

"How old is she, doctor?" Brenda asked.

"Twelve, according to her mother."

Brenda and Andy looked at each other. Assault on a child 12 or under carried sexual abuse against a child charges, with much heavier penalties.

"Thank you, doctor. Can we see her now?"

"For a few minutes." He looked at Andy. "Are you Andy?"

"Yeah."

"She was asking for you. Said you saved her and would be here."

"Thanks for telling me," he answered.

"You saved her?" Brenda asked as they walked to the girl's room.

"Gabriel and I got there at the same time. I pulled one of those little punks off her and carried her to the car until the medics got there."

"Apparently, you made an impression on her."

"She was scared to death."

Brenda smiled. There was that pillar of Jell-O Philippa had mentioned.

Brenda tapped on the door and the mother opened it. "Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson, LAPD, and this is Lieutenant Andy Flynn. We're working on your daughter's case."

"Andy!" the girl exclaimed. "Mom, that's Andy! He saved my life!"

Corrinna's mother looked at Andy with tear-filled eyes. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

"You're welcome, ma'am," he answered, and went to Corrinna's bedside. "How ya doing, kiddo?"

"You came to see me. You kept your promise!" she said.

Andy smiled at her. "I try to do that. Don't always make it, but I try."

Mrs. Rubino, Corrinna's mother, smiled at that and said in a low voice to Brenda, "Her father, my husband, died four years ago. His heart. So people who keep promises are very important to her."

"I understand. Can I speak with you in the hall outside?"

"Of course."

Brenda and Mrs. Rubino went into the hall. "Mrs. Rubino, I hate to tell you this, considering what you've already been through today, but your son, Ignacio, was found shot to death inside your house. I'm so sorry for your loss."

Tears again filled her eyes and she nodded. "My Corrinna, she said she was afraid this was so. I did not have much hope for him."

"I'm so sorry. But we have apprehended the four boys who were involved, and with Corrinna's help, we are going to put them away for the rest of their lives."

"She must testify in court?" The woman's voice was anxious.

"I'm sure we can have the District Attorney videotape her testimony in his office and can show it to a jury, if it comes to trial. My aim is always to get a confession, though, from at least one of our suspects."

Inside the room, Corrinna reached to take Andy's hand. "My brother, Ignacio, he's dead, isn't he?"

Andy nodded sadly. "I'm afraid so, Corrinna. I am so sorry. I wish we could have gotten there sooner." He squeezed her hand.

She sighed. "I thought so. But maybe my oldest brother, Rafael, will come home to help take care of Mom." A shadow crossed her face. "Andy, today I miss my Papa very much."

Andy's heart, always tender where kids were involved, broke for this girl. "You poor kid. Well, I personally got cuffs on two of them and Detective Gabriel got the other two, so we got the people who did this. So don't you worry about them. They're behind bars. "

"That's good. Andy, will you come see me again?"

"Count on it, kiddo. I need to get back to the office and get some paperwork done, but I'll see you tomorrow, all right?"

"O.K. I want to see you."

Andy ruffled the girl's hair. "I'll be here," he said. "Take it easy, and do what the docs tell you."

Corrinna nodded and waved good-bye to him.

He went out into the hallway with Brenda and Mrs. Rubino. "She's doing great, considering what happened to her. I figured she'd be a wreck," he said.

Corrinna's mom shook her head. "Corrinna has always been my strong child. She mostly saves her tears for when she thinks no one sees."

Brenda patted the woman's shoulder. "Well, if you need anything, or if Corrinna thinks of anything she wants to tell us, please call us right away. We'll do whatever we can."

"Thank you both. Thank you. God go with you."

Andy and Brenda nodded and walked out to her car.

"Brenda, I want one of those little punks," Andy said.

"I want all four of them. I don't know that it's a good idea to let you get close to any of them."

"Five minutes, and tell Buzz to kill the camera. I swear to God I won't put a hand on him. But you'll get that confession. And it will hold up in court. Just five minutes, Brenda."

"We'll see, Andy. We'll see how they're acting when we get back to the department."

"All right," he said. But he had plans for those jokers.

When they got back to the department, Andy disappeared. Brenda didn't look for him for several minutes. She was getting briefed on the latest from Gabriel and Sanchez. When she spotted him again, he had a folder in his hand and said to Brenda, "Five minutes, Chief. I won't touch whichever little pig you give me."

Brenda bit her lip. "Who do we think is the ringleader of this little party?" she asked.

Sanchez pointed to a photo on the murder board. "Carmino Ramos. He's a minor player in the 3 C's."

"So this is gang-related?"

"We don't know, Chief. Can't find any affiliations for Ignacio Rubino. As far as we can tell, he wasn't a banger."

Andy tapped the folder impatiently. "Where is he?"

"Interview one," Sanchez answered.

"I'll be right back," Andy said. He went into the room and gestured to Buzz to cut the video feed. He did so, and Brenda watched through the window, to make sure Andy kept his word.

Andy dropped the folder on the table and took off his leather jacket. He stood in the room for a moment, saying nothing, but letting Ramos get a good look at his Glock in its holster.

"Now then," Andy growled at the boy. "I'm not gonna dance around what you did and who you did it to. I know all that. So let me give you some information." He pulled a booking photo from the folder and slapped it on the table. "That's Rafael Rubino. Know who he is?"

"Why should I?"

Andy grinned. "Keep that up while you can, punk. But you just screwed up so seriously. Rubino? He's big time. He's in San Quentin for some major felony convictions. And guess what you did, you little wanna be banger? You raped his sister and killed his brother tonight. Guess what else? I'm gonna send him a personal message telling him who's coming to see him. I'm gonna ask him to treat you real special." He saw fear flicker in Ramos' eyes.

"I ain't scared of his old ass," Ramos blustered.

"You'd better be. His ass ain't all that old. He's 26. They call him 'Mojave' inside. They say he's like a Mojave rattlesnake. You mess with him, and he will kill you. Period. He was proud of his little brother, who was an honor student. And his sister? She's the apple of his eye. But, you've got a chance to stay out of the general population, where Mojave can get to you. My Chief will come in here and you tell her what you did. You do that, and we can arrange with the D.A. to keep you out of the general population. But this is a limited time offer. If you don't tell her everything when she comes in, you get no help from the D.A. In fact, we can arrange for you and Mojave to share a cozy little cell. How about that?"

Ramos' face was a mask of naked fear. "What do I gotta do?"

Andy grinned evilly. He slid a yellow legal pad and pen toward Ramos. "Write it all down there, sign and date it. Chief will be in here in a minute." He left the room and smiled at Brenda. "He's all yours, Chief."

"I'm not even going to ask what you said to him. Please ask Buzz to turn on the video feed."

"Will do." Andy looked in on the electronics room. "Hey Buzz. Turn on the feed in interview one and kill it in interview two, will you?"

"Sure, Lieutenant."

Andy walked into the other room, legal pad and folder in hand. He dropped the pad on the table. "Start writing, punk. Your 3C buddy Carmino just rolled on all of you. You participated in the sexual assault of a child. That girl's 12. Plus, you killed her brother. That's special circumstances any day, you little freak, which gets you a needle in your arm. Put it all on paper, or go to death row. You're 18. That means you get tried as an adult. Any questions?"

"What if I want a lawyer?"

"Then you'd better hope one of those little do-gooders from the public defender's office has death penalty experience. An attorney with real experience is way out of your price range." Andy leaned against the wall, his tone matter-of-fact.

"You don't care what happens to me. Why shouldn't I ask for a lawyer?"

Andy put his hands on the table and leaned into the man's face. "You're right. I don't give a shit about what happens to you. If you bonded out and got hit by a car on your way home, I wouldn't lose a second of sleep." His tone was menacing. "I'm trying to save a mom and her little girl the trauma of having to go through a trial. And save the taxpayers the cost. Justice would have been me tying you to the bumper of my car and dragging you all the way back downtown at 55 mph, and then seeing what was left of you. That would have been _justice_, you little prick. But I have to uphold the law. And the law says if you don't confess, we try you for murder with special circumstances, and with all the evidence we've got, it's a lock cinch you go to death row. So take your chances with a jury if you want to, little lady. But the D.A. will be gunning for your ass, and all it's gonna take is telling them about how you raped a 12-year-old kid, plus Carmino's confession, and that's gonna be it. So roll the dice."

They had him in a corner. But he was 18 and didn't have a juvie record. He might get parole. He took the legal pad and started writing. He looked up at Andy. "Burn in hell," he said.

"You first," Andy replied as he walked out the door. He went back to Buzz. "Turn the feed back on in two."

"All right, Lieutenant." Buzz turned the cameras back on and looked at the suspect, writing his confession. He didn't look like he'd just gone a couple of rounds with Andy Flynn. Didn't have a scratch on him, as far as Buzz could see. But Flynn had his own ways of dealing with suspects, and in this case, whatever he did was fine with the electronics technician. Flynn could have left nothing but a grease spot in either of those rooms, and Buzz would have sworn himself blind in court that it was spontaneous combustion.

When Brenda came out of the second interview room, confessions in hand, she went to Andy, who was at his desk, looking a little smug. "I don't know what you did. I don't think I want to know. But whatever it was, we got those little creeps to confess. I can't believe we did it in one night, but we did."

"They call us 'elite' for a reason," Andy said with a smirk.

Brenda shook her head. She said to the group at large, "Folks, looks like we'll be home by midnight with four confessions. Thank you so much for knocking this one out so quick. I'm flyin' to Atlanta tomorrow afternoon to see my parents, so you all have one for me at O'Malley's. Thank you all." She went into her office.

Andy looked at the clock. Eleven-thirty. He couldn't believe they had done as much as they did since just seven. But they had. He took his phone and sent Brenda a text. "Go feed the cat and come on over."

"O.K." was the response he got. Texting was handy.

* * *

><p>When Brenda got to Andy's place and let herself in, the apartment was dark, but she did see a light on in the bedroom. She kicked off her shoes, walked down the hall and peeked inside. Andy had dozed off sitting up, his reading glasses still perched on the end of his nose. Poor thing. She knew he was tired. She quietly slipped into her pajamas and, going to his side of the bed, took his glasses off. He started and his eyes flew open.<p>

"Sorry about that. Guess I was more tired than I thought," he said.

"Don't apologize," she answered, kissing him. "I'm tired just thinking about dealing with LAX tomorrow afternoon and the Atlanta airport tomorrow night. They're both just awful." She got into bed. Andy turned out the lamp and snuggled beside her. "You always smell so good," she said.

"I did take a shower. I was pretty grimy after getting those punks collared tonight."

"You did a good job. So whose photo were you showing them? Ramos said it was Rafael Rubino. His mother said he was in Arizona on a construction job."

"I don't remember his name. Toughest looking guy I could find in five minutes." Andy shrugged.

"And I thought I was devious. You're downright diabolical."

Andy kissed her forehead. "Call it a gift."

She ran her hands across his chest. "I never thought I liked guys with a lot of hair on their chests. How do you keep getting me to change my mind about that kind of thing?"

"Charm, babe," he snickered.

"Must be. Have I told you today how sexy you are?"

"No, but go ahead. I like hearing it," he cracked.

"Egomaniac."

Andy kissed Brenda and nuzzled her hair. "I'm probably going to tell the guys about us tomorrow night at O'Malley's," he said.

"Are you sure?" Concern laced Brenda's voice.

"Might as well. You'll be out of the backblast, if there is one, since you'll be in Atlanta, and they're going to figure it out eventually. We need to tell them before it blows up in our faces."

Brenda put her cheek against Andy's chest. She could hear his heart beat in the quiet room. He was strong and she needed a little strength right now. "I guess I'll have to tell Will. I don't want to, though."

"He's a big boy. He can handle it. He oughta know by now you're not interested in anything he's got to offer."

"You'd think, but I do wonder sometimes," she answered.

"You want me to break the news?" Andy offered. He didn't want to, but there was a lot he didn't want to do, but would be willing to do for Brenda.

She sighed. "It's tempting, oh is it tempting. But I have to do it. I'll be in the office until about ten tomorrow morning, and I'll tell him then."

"All right. Call me if you need me, though."

"You know I will. Anytime I needed you, you've always been there for me, Andy." She cuddled closer to him. "I need you right now. Just put your arms around me."

"What's the matter, babe?"

"I don't know. I'm just feeling really, I don't know. Brittle? Maybe that's it. Maybe I'm feeling brittle. Like I'm about to fly to pieces."

Andy pulled Brenda closer and stroked her hair and her back. "You don't get past what you've been through in five weeks, sweetheart. It's all right. I'll hold you together," he teased gently.

"I don't know what in this world I'd have done without you through this, Andy. I do not know. I guess I'd have just gone crazy."

"Glad we didn't have to find out. You ready to go to sleep?"

"Yeah, I am. I'm so tired. Good night, Andy. I love you so much."

"Love you," he murmured, already half asleep.

* * *

><p>"You know, Will, it's just about time you allowed me to live my life," Brenda said. She had told him about she and Andy seeing each other.<p>

"But Flynn? Oh my God, Brenda! Why Flynn?"

"Why not, Will? But you know? I don't have to explain a thing to you. I told you because the regulations say I have to. So consider yourself told."

"Fine, but _Flynn_? You've got to be kidding me! I mean, convenient for him, considering his propensity for getting himself and your division into ridiculously complicated situations, but what's there for you?"

Brenda stood, hands on her hips. "You know Will, Fritzie told me a long time ago you still carried a torch for me, but I didn't believe him. Not really. I thought you were just my friend, and you were looking out for me. But now? Now, I think he was right. He had a funny way of being right about this kind of thing, in fact. He had a pretty good bead on a lot of the people around me, it turns out. But you were asking about Andy. So what is it about Andy? For one thing, he's honest. He's never been anything but honest about himself to me. I didn't have to wait until your insurance agent told me about his DUIs, like I had to find out about with Fritz. Or that he was married and conveniently forgot to mention it, like _you_."

At that, Will at least had the grace to look ashamed, but Brenda continued. "And you know what else? Andy loves me. He's worked with me every day for six years, and he still loves me, just like I am. He wants me to be the best person I can be, but he loves me. And I love him. Yes, he has a nasty temper. He's impulsive, he's got a big Yankee mouth on him and he's kind of crazy. I'll give you all that. But he has never, I repeat _never_, since he made amends to me all those years ago, been anything but supportive. He works his tail off every day he's here. We've had disagreements, but he's never insulted me or made me feel like I couldn't do this job. He compliments me, and he's sincere about it. And never once since Fritz died, have I reached out, needing a hand to hold, when his hasn't been there for me."

Tears began to well in her eyes. "He's been here for me for years and I was just too dumb to see it. I love him, Will, and he loves me. And you know what?" She drew herself up and Will could see the steel in her face. "If you can't deal with it, I don't care. You can go straight to hell."

Brenda turned on her heel and marched out the door, leaving a shell-shocked Will Pope in her wake.

* * *

><p>Andy waited until the detectives' collective moods had eased into a weekend frame of mind with the application of beer and cocktails before he dropped the bomb. As they sat at "their" corner table at O'Malley's that night, Andy drank his cranberry and soda and pondered exactly how he was going to word his announcement. Beat around the bush a little, or just be direct? At least Provenza pretty much knew already, and so, could back him up. And really, the only one Andy was worried about was David Gabriel. He knew Gabriel considered himself to be Brenda's mainstay in the division, and everyone knew he was her pet. The words "lap dog" had often been muttered as he did yet another little favor for their chief.<p>

The music died down and Andy leaned across the table. "Hey guys, there's something I want to tell you all."

Provenza shot him a look and Andy shrugged. It had to come out sooner or later, and Andy would rather it was sooner on his terms, than later on someone else's.

"What's up?" Tao said

"Well, I know it's not strictly in the rules and regs, but the Chief and I have been seeing each other."

At that, Sanchez elbowed Tao and said, "Pay up." Tao reached for his wallet and slapped a twenty into Julio's hand.

"So this is not exactly a surprise?" Andy said.

"Well, not completely," Julio replied. "We were just wondering who would tell us: you or the Chief."

"Have we been that obvious?"

"No, and that's what's weird," Mike chuckled. "That's how I lost the bet. It's been business as usual."

Andy shrugged. "We've really tried to keep it that way. We didn't want anybody saying the Chief was playing favorites."

"You're professionals. We're professionals. No big deal," Provenza said, draining his beer and thumping the empty bottle on the table so the waitress would notice.

"_I_ think it's a big deal," David said, to no one's surprise. "And I can't believe you guys all tried so hard to keep me from finding out!" He was obviously upset.

"That's because we knew you'd act like this," Provenza answered, in a reasonable tone.

"What is Pope gonna say? Or Delk?" David spluttered.

"That's the Chief's problem, as far as I'm concerned," Mike answered. "She can handle those two. I'm more worried about the Wicked Witch and what she might do."

"She knows, too," Andy said with a grin. "She's kind of disgusted, but she knows."

Andy and the Chief? Not news. Not really. Andy and the Wicked Witch? _This_ was news. To everyone except Provenza, anyway. "You and Raydor were seeing each other?" Julio said. "Unreal!"

"How did you stand her?" Tao asked.

"She's O.K. away from the office," Andy answered. "And she hasn't been on our asses about anything lately, right? So it ended up being a good thing."

Now David's world had just been turned completely upside down. Flynn had dated not just the Chief, but Captain Raydor, too? "I can't believe you, Andy. I mean, _two_ superior officers? What are you doing — just sleeping your way through every female ranking officer in the LAPD?"

The other guys looked at David in shocked surprise, and then at Andy, fearfully. This could cause a titanic explosion.

Andy refused to get too angry at Gabriel, who was really just being his usual uptight self. So he said, "Well, I hear Irene Daniels is up for promotion to lieutenant. I always thought she was hot, y'know?"

He was gratified by the anger on David's face. Provenza smacked David on the back of the head. "Settle down, sport. You deserved that one. You were way out of line."

Tao and Sanchez were just relieved Andy chose to laugh off David's remark, rather than take offense. A pissed-off Andy Flynn was very, very bad news.

"C'mon, David. You're still the teacher's pet," Andy said. "As long as that doesn't change, why do you care what she's doing off the clock?"

"She's been through a lot. I don't want to see her get hurt," he answered.

"And you think I'll hurt her?"

"Well, you do have two exes behind you."

"True. But I'm a little older and wiser this time around. And give the Chief a little credit, here. She's a grown woman. She can tell me to hit the road any time she feels like it. She's not helpless, believe me." Andy did understand Gabriel's concern, but he got the impression that David felt he, Andy, was just not good enough for Brenda Leigh Johnson and that got under his skin. Still, he held on to his temper in a notable display of forbearance with David.

Mike raised his glass. "Fine by me. Here's to both of you. Hope everything works out."

Provenza and Julio raised their glasses, and David, reluctantly, did also. He couldn't believe this. Brenda Leigh Johnson was a lady of some refinement. Andy Flynn? He was a blue-collar, strictly working-class, loudmouthed Jersey cop, in spite of his nice suits and lieutenant's bars. David was smart enough to know that any tattling on his part to Delk or Pope would get his tail in a sling, but he still couldn't credit it that a woman like the Chief would go for a guy like Andy.

When Provenza ran over Andy's old phone accidentally a couple of months beforehand, Andy broke down and bought a smartphone. He'd also helped Brenda choose one, and showed her how to do a few things with it. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he checked it. He chuckled.

"Hey guys, Chief made it to Atlanta O.K. and sent this. It's a video of Clay and Willie Rae." He handed the phone around, and even David had to laugh at Brenda's parents waving for the camera, with Brenda's mother yelling at the top of her lungs, "Hi everybody!" and Clay shushing her, saying, "Doggone it, Willie Rae, would you pipe down? Somebody's gonna arrest you if you keep howling like that in the airport!"

Provenza handed Andy his phone and said where only he could hear. "Aren't you glad your future in-laws live 2,000 miles away?"

Andy rolled his eyes. "If it ever comes to that, but yeah."

* * *

><p>After Andy got back home, his cell rang. It was Brenda. He checked his watch. "Babe, it's 3 a.m. in Atlanta!"<p>

"I know, but it's midnight in L.A., and I'm still on Pacific Time. I told Will this morning."

"How'd he take it?"

"He wasn't happy, but he'll get over it," Brenda answered. "Did you tell the guys?"

"Yeah. David wasn't happy, but he'll get over it."

"I figured. I don't know where in the world he got the idea he owns me, though."

"He's afraid he won't be the golden child anymore," Andy replied.

Brenda snorted. "That's what I get for being nice to people."

"That's what you get for playing favorites, Brenda."

"Oh, you always have to put that mirror in front of me, don't you?"

Andy chuckled. "You know what they say: the truth will set you free."

"You rascal. I miss you already."

"I miss you, too, but you'll only be there a few days."

"You'll meet me at the airport Tuesday morning, won't you?"

"Yeah. Should I plan on being late for work then?" he said, that roguish tone in his voice.

Brenda snickered. "You might at that. You just never know. Well, assumin' a freak snowstorm doesn't hit Denver or something to delay the flight."

"From Denver, you could snowshoe here," Andy teased.

"Oh, hush. Well, I'd better get some sleep. Mama's gonna be up bright and early, fixing French toast."

"Tell your folks I said hello."

"I will, Andy. I'll see you Tuesday. Good night. Love you."

"Love you, Brenda Leigh."


	13. Chapter 13: Bad Medicine

**A/N:** Some goodness - you were waiting for it, weren't you? ;) and a little plot development. Perhaps more of the former than the latter. LOL. Anyway, enjoy and please, please R&R!

Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer."

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13: Bad Medicine<strong>

LAX was a huge airport. And a manic one. Andy hated the place, but since he was meeting Brenda there, he had to go. With all the extra security, he couldn't even go to her gate to meet her. He had to wait in the arrivals area. At least she hadn't checked any bags, so they didn't have to deal with that zoo. He had gone ahead and taken the day off. If Brenda's flight was late, he would be there a while, and by the time he picked her up, got her to her house and back downtown to the office, it was three hours gone, easy. He had the vacation time. Might as well use it.

The arrivals board said her flight was on time, but Andy knew better than to trust it. The only advantage was the flight left at 6 a.m., Atlanta time, which probably meant it left close to on time, and it got into Denver pretty early, which also meant maybe it left Denver on time. He didn't mind flying too much, but he hated all the crowds and hoops you had to jump through to do it.

He thumbed through a couple of magazines and looked over the newspaper and checked the board again. Wonder of wonders: it said her flight had actually arrived. That was good. He looked toward the escalator where passengers were leaving the main terminal, but didn't see her. She had called him as soon as she got on the plane in Atlanta, so he knew she made that leg of the flight. Ten, then fifteen minutes passed, and he was beginning to get a little concerned, when he saw her at the top of the escalator, dragging her carry-on and lugging some sort of tote he didn't remember her having when she left Friday afternoon.

Andy waited at the bottom of the escalator and when she saw him, she smiled hugely and as she stepped off, he put his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "Glad to see you, babe," he said.

"I'm so glad to see you, too!" Her accent was always more pronounced after a trip home and he grinned.

"What is that thing you're schlepping?" he said, relieving her of the tote.

"Oh, Mama bought it for me. My purse is in there, and some things I bought when we did a little shopping.

"Your purse? No wonder it weighs 200 pounds! Good thing they didn't weigh it or they'd have charged you extra!"

Brenda just rolled her eyes. "Oh, you. Well, we can just get going from here."

"Did they feed you? Are you hungry?"

"I could eat, but they did give us a little snack box on the trip out from Atlanta. And Mama offered to cook, but I didn't want her to do all that at four in the morning."

He snorted. "I know all about those snack boxes. A pack of granola and a cookie. Let's go get some real food. I'm a little hungry, too."

Andy smiled inwardly as Brenda demolished an enormous omelet at a local diner. He had a feeling she was really hungry. "I fed your cat this morning already, but I know you're ready to get some real shut-eye," he said.

"Yeah, I missed Joel, too. Thanks for taking care of him. I hate to board him at the vet's office if I don't have to."

"He's an easy cat. You know, put the food in the bowl, watch him eat. No big deal."

Brenda laughed at that, and as Andy drove back to her house, she watched the traffic, and the neighborhoods go by the window and sighed.

"What's up?" Andy asked.

"I feel a little weird, that's all. This morning I was all the way across the country. It was good to go home. And you know what? I think the only reason I came back is you."

"Really? Not your job?"

Brenda shook her head. "Not as much, maybe. I don't know."

They pulled into the driveway, and as Brenda got out of the car, Andy put his arms around her. "I think you're tired and you need some sleep."

"Maybe so." She leaned into him. "Oh, I missed you this weekend. I just wished you were there with me."

"I wish I'd been there, too," he answered. He steered her gently toward the front door. He brought her luggage inside and closed the door. Brenda was greeting Joel and had him in her lap. He grinned and took her things to the bedroom.

When he came back into the den, Brenda had taken off her sweater and Andy looked at her T-shirt. It was red and had a cartoon of a large bulldog sitting on a tiger, smashing it flat. The caption read, "Dawgs rule, Tigers drool" and the University of Georgia logo on it.

"What's that all about?" he asked, pointing to her shirt.

Brenda looked at her shirt. "Oh, Georgia opens the football season with Auburn this year. Daddy said I needed to show my support. He wanted to get one for you, but I wouldn't let him."

"Thanks for that," Andy said in relief. "It's the Auburn Tigers, right? And the Georgia Bulldogs?"

"Right."

Andy shook his head. "You know, he told me when they got here, you know, after... Anyway, he said that I needed to learn to like SEC college football."

"Did he, really? What brought that on?"

"We were watching a Braves game, and I mentioned I'm a Dodgers fan." Andy wasn't quite ready to tell Brenda everything Clay had said to her.

"Oh. That makes sense. Daddy thinks everybody ought to like football as much as he does." She checked the clock. "Are you going to work today?"

He grinned at her. "Well, I figured I'd ask my boss if I could take a day of vacation to pick up this cute chick at the airport."

She returned the smile. "I see. Well, I approve the request." She went to Andy and put her arms around his neck. "I didn't get to kiss you when you met me in the terminal."

"Oh really? And what am I supposed to do about that?"

Brenda stood on tiptoe. "Come here and find out," she answered, bringing his head to hers and kissing him, softly first, then with more passion as he put his arms around her. She sighed as he kissed her neck. "I don't know how I made it four days without kissing you."

"You're talking too much," Andy murmured against her skin.

"Mmm-hmm," she agreed and tugged his shirt free from his jeans and slid her hands underneath it. His skin always felt so good. For some reason, Brenda felt cold inside when she got off the plane, but she couldn't feel cold with Andy. When his arms came around her, the ice dissolved and she remembered why she had to come back to Los Angeles. And this morning, she wasn't a bit interested in anything but getting in the bedroom and getting naked with Andy. She hadn't lied when she said she was addicted to him.

Andy couldn't think of any reason not to give Brenda what she wanted. They had plenty of time to take it slow, later. So he swung her up into his arms and took her into the bedroom. Once there, he mostly tossed her on the bed, making her giggle wildly. Clothes came off and in a moment, Andy was in the bed, rolling Brenda on to her back, kissing her, and with little preamble, inside her. But she was more than ready for him, as she twined her legs with his and matched his movements. It wasn't long before they were in a heap together, and Brenda was feeling for the blanket to pull over them. She knew she needed some decent sleep, and wanted it to be in Andy's arms.

There was something to be said for quickies, Andy thought with a wry grin. But a late night and an early morning, to say nothing of fighting the traffic in and out of LAX, had drained him, too. But then again, he'd rarely managed to stay awake for too long after sex. It had irritated his second wife, but he really didn't care. Apparently, Brenda was the same way he was, which was good.

In a moment, both were sleeping so soundly, neither noticed when Joel jumped on the bed and curled himself up at its foot.

* * *

><p>"Chief, can I talk to you?" Gabriel asked Brenda when she returned to the office the next day.<p>

"Sure, Detective. Come on in."

David went into her office and closed the door. "I wanted to discuss something with you."

Brenda reached in her desk drawer and brought out a candy bar. She opened it, "Sit down. What's on your mind?" she said as she took a bite.

"It's, um, something Lieutenant Flynn mentioned Friday night at O'Malley's."

"What? That we're dating?" Brenda had been expecting this.

"Well yes. And I have some concerns."

She nodded. "You do? Like what, Detective?"

"Like what will Chief Pope and Chief Delk say? And, uh, a couple of other things."

Brenda took another bite of candy. When she swallowed it, she said, "Chief Pope knows. I told him myself. And I don't give a rip what Tommy Delk thinks about anything. It's none of his business, anyway." She looked at him shrewdly. "And what would your 'other things' be?" Her tone was faintly sarcastic.

David heard the irritation and knew he was on thin ice. "I just don't want anything to interfere with the cohesiveness of the division."

Brenda ate about half the candy bar, leisurely, before answering him. David was squirming by that time, which was her intention. "Cohesiveness," she coolly repeated. "Had you noticed anything affecting the cohesiveness of the division before Lieutenant Flynn mentioned something about us?"

"Um, no, Chief. Not really. But you two have been broadcasting some pretty strong vibes."

"And these 'vibes,' Detective. Do you think they're noticeable to anyone outside the division? To anyone who doesn't know us?"

David cleared his throat. "I wouldn't think so, Chief. Probably not."

Brenda finished the candy bar, wiped her mouth with a tissue and threw tissue and candy wrapper into the trash can. Elbows on her desk, she rested her chin on her hands. "You know, Detective, I just don't seem to remember hearing a peep from you when it became general knowledge that Agent Howard and I were dating."

"Agent Howard wasn't with the department." David could see annoyance starting to flash in Brenda's eyes and he hastened to add, "Chief, I'm just concerned. I'm not trying to stick my nose into your personal life. If Lieutenant Flynn was in another division, I wouldn't say a word."

Brenda raised an eyebrow. "He's offered to transfer to Hollywood Division. How do you think _that_ would affect the cohesiveness of the division?"

Wow. That was news to David. He thought a moment. Major Crimes without Flynn? It wouldn't be the same. And what if they transferred somebody like that weasel Ross in to replace him? It would be just like Delk to do something like that. "I'd hate to see Flynn leave Major Crimes," he answered.

"Glad to hear it, Detective. So would I. And I seem to recall another time, oh, a while back, when two detectives dating in this division, _did_ cause some problems. Do you remember that?"

Now that he was a little older, he really regretted his behavior when he and Irene Daniels broke up. So he couldn't blame the Chief for bringing it up. "I remember, Chief."

"Your grandparents grew up in the South, am I correct?"

David nodded. Where was she going with this?

"Ever hear the old saying, 'That's the pot calling the kettle black?'"

"Yes ma'am. My grandmother said it a lot."

"What does it mean?" Brenda was glaring at him outright, now.

"Well, it means don't accuse others of doing something you've done yourself." David knew he was in deep trouble. Why hadn't he listened to Provenza?

"You got it. Abide by it, then. With this provision. _If_ you see direct evidence of me showing favoritism toward Lieutenant Flynn, and it had better be direct, obvious evidence, then feel free to bring this up again. However, as long as everything around here goes on pretty much as it has been, then the subject is closed. I really do appreciate your concern, though, because I know it means you care. Have I made myself clear on everything else, though?"

"Absolutely, Chief."

"All right, then." She nodded at him and he stood and left the office.

Brenda drummed her fingers on her desk in irritation. Andy had told her more than once that Gabriel thought he owned her, and the whole squad knew it. Apparently, he was right. Still, as long as everyone did their jobs and were professionals, they shouldn't have any problems. Hopefully.

* * *

><p>Andy and Brenda managed to find time for lunch together and Brenda was still aggravated.<p>

"What's going on with you? You look like you're pissed off at the world."

"No, just at David Gabriel."

"What did he do?"

"Tried to counsel with me about us dating."

Andy just raised his eyebrows. He didn't say a word. He didn't have to. "All right. All right. You told me so. Happy now?" Brenda said in exasperation.

He grinned at her. "Not happy, exactly, but it is nice to be right once in a while. Doesn't happen that often."

"Oh, pooh," Brenda snorted. "You're right most of the time. I just don't listen to you. Well, you're right, unless you're ready to go off half-cocked about something because you're mad."

Andy chuckled. "Now who's holding up the mirror? But you're right. My sponsor stays on me about that stuff all the time. I am a little quick to judge, some days."

Brenda gave him a knowing grin that made Andy nudge her knee under the table. "Ever have one of those weeks when, even though you know it's awful to think that way, you wish we'd catch a case?" she asked.

Andy nodded. "Unfortunately, yeah."

"Well, this isn't one of those weeks. If we don't do a single thing for the rest of the week, I'll be happy."

"Means we'll be catching up on paperwork, though."

"That's all right. I don't have to think when I'm doing paperwork. I don't want anything challenging in my life this week. Well, except you."

Andy winced. "Ow. You stocked up on ammo in Georgia, didn't you? My ass is gonna be sore all afternoon from all the potshots you've taken at me."

Brenda laughed outright at that comment, until the smile died from her face. Who was walking by but Sharon Raydor? Oh, what made that woman decide to eat here today? Even though Brenda and Sharon had managed to bury a few hatchets since Fritz died, Brenda was still intensely suspicious of her. After all, she and Andy had been "friends with benefits" for a short time.

"Good afternoon Chief, Lieutenant," she said.

"Hey Captain," Andy said. "What's up?"

"Oh nothing. I have to eat too, you know."

"We're waiting on the check or I'd ask you to join us," Andy said.

"No, I couldn't anyway," Sharon responded. "I'm just getting something to go."

"What a shame," Brenda said, feeling Andy nudge her sharply under the table. "Busy day?"

"Unfortunately, yes. Did you have a nice visit with your parents?"

Brenda could tell Sharon was making an effort to be pleasant, so she decided she would, also. "I did, yes," she replied. "Thank you for asking."

"That's good. I'll see you both in the department, then."

"See ya," Andy said with a smile. Brenda managed something between a grin and a grimace that had Andy chuckling. "God, Brenda, is that the best you can do for a smile?" he said after Sharon was out of earshot.

"For her, yes."

"C'mon. Isn't it about time you two acted like adults? She was actually being civil."

Brenda narrowed her eyes at Andy. "You know how I feel about that woman."

Andy leaned over the table. "As much as it feeds my ego to have two lovely women fighting over me, it's a little too tenth grade, don't you think?"

"She'd better just keep her paws to herself," Brenda harrumphed.

Andy rolled his eyes. "Have I been going home with anybody but you?"

"No, but she still looks at you like she could eat you up. Not that I blame her, but still..."

He sighed as he paid the check and stood. "Swear to God, I'm movin' to San Diego and being a professional beach bum. Or maybe I'll go back to Jersey and open a pizza place. Dealing with you two is tough on my blood pressure."

Brenda looked a little shamefaced as she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. "I'll try to do better. Lord knows I don't want you runnin' off to San Diego. Or anywhere else."

Sharon was waiting for her order, watched Andy and Brenda walk out of the diner together and saw the adoring gaze Brenda turned to Andy. It made her blood boil, but one of them had to be the adult, and Sharon was going to fill that role if it killed her.

Back in the murder room, Andy flopped down at his desk, eyeing the never-diminishing pile of paperwork with distaste. Brenda walked past him to her office. She was wearing that red linen sleeveless dress today and it hugged every curve. Andy bent his head to rifle through a desk drawer, to hide his smirk. Both of his previous wives were good-looking, but there was just something about Brenda Leigh Johnson. One of his buddies in AA, who was also from the South, said it was just the Southern belle mystique. Andy wasn't going to argue the point. Whatever it was, he liked it. With a sigh, he picked up a folder of evidence logs he had to fill out and sign and started working.

* * *

><p>Brenda almost always managed to be the last one out of the murder room. Tonight though, once it was deserted, Andy strolled into her office, closed and locked the door, took Brenda's hand, pulled her up out of her chair, then sat down in it himself, with Brenda across his lap.<p>

"Andy!" she squealed. "What are you doing?"

"If I have to explain, I haven't been doing it enough," he answered as he started the zipper down on her dress. "You've been driving me nuts in this dress all day," he said, bringing it over her shoulders.

Brenda had fortunately closed the blinds in her office earlier. She was reading files and didn't want to be disturbed. This kind of disturbance was just fine with her, though. She wasn't particularly concerned about someone seeing them. Who was in the building at this hour but the cleaning crew, anyway?

Andy had Brenda's dress off in short order, while she had taken his jacket and tossed it on her desk, and had loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. She then busied herself with the fastening and zipper on his pants and had them undone. Andy grabbed Brenda's wrists and brought her to him, where he kissed her, then hungrily made his way between her breasts, holding them in his hands and thumbing her nipples as he kissed her skin.

Brenda was alternately giggling and moaning at the feel of Andy's hands and said, breathless, "What in the world got into you?"

"You, Brenda," he answered. It was his turn to moan then, as Brenda managed to work her way underneath his shorts, and pulled them down enough to touch him. "Find something you like?" he managed to croak, as she stroked him.

"You'd better believe it," she answered. She leveraged herself above him and then lowered herself down on his shaft, exquisitely slowly. Andy dropped his head back against the chair, his eyes closed. Brenda caught his mouth with hers. As she kissed him leisurely, softly, she was hardly moving, just wanting that incredible feeling of Andy inside her to last a while. When she raised her mouth, his eyes opened, now black with passion, and his hands went to her back, feathering their way down to her hips. He brought one hand between them to touch her, finding that little nub, and teasing it with his fingers.

"What can I do for you, Brenda? What do you need me to do?"

Brenda's breath was coming in short pants. "That, Andy. That feels so good." She started moving, her feet on the chair legs giving her leverage.

As she rocked back and forth, Andy said, "I'm not gonna last long at this rate."

"Me either," she gasped. Something about the small risk of getting caught had really turned Brenda on. In fact, she had a wicked thought about what that woman would do if the door hadn't been locked and she walked in on them. The idea of possessing Andy in front of Sharon Raydor, who she knew still wanted him, was so intense, it sparked her climax and she cried out. The contractions of her body around Andy's, the sounds she made, were irresistible and he stopped trying to hold back and emptied himself inside her. Brenda half lay across Andy's chest as their breathing slowed to normal. "Think you can make it home, now?"

"Maybe," he answered.

"I don't recommend we do this too often, but..." Brenda's voice trailed off into a chuckle.

"Yeah. It was one of those wild ideas that worked out better than I expected," Andy replied.

She sighed. "You can have those wild ideas anytime you want to."

"I'll remember that."

They got themselves together enough to walk out of the building decently dressed. As they walked to the elevator, Sharon saw them. They didn't see her, but Andy's arm around Brenda's shoulders, the twinkle in his eyes, the luminous look in Brenda's, all told her everything. She could almost smell sex in the air. Sharon could close her eyes now and remember how Andy's mouth felt on hers, how his hands had caressed her skin. She had the urge to claw Brenda's face until the blood ran, and as she saw Andy give Brenda a playful, gentle swat on the behind as she preceded him into the elevator, Sharon nearly went postal right there. What on earth had made her agree to that insane idea that sleeping with Andy wasn't good if they wanted to remain friends? And it had been _her_ idea! What an idiot she was! Well, she had just rolled over as long as she was going to. She wasn't about to give up Andy Flynn without a fight, and for a change, this battle was on even terms. Brenda just thought she had the advantage. She was in for a shock. To hell with being the adult!

As Andy pressed the button for the parking deck level, he caught a glimpse of Sharon standing in the hallway, her green eyes blazing with rage and jealousy. As the doors closed, he wondered if he had seen what he thought he had. The look on her face was downright murderous, and the thought troubled him, even as he smiled down at Brenda and pulled her close to his side.


	14. Chapter 14: Life, Unexpected

**A/N:** Well, let's see how this goes... Yep, a new chapter! There was a plot in here, somewhere... I'll find it eventually, I'm sure. LOL. Meanwhile, enjoy and please R&R!

Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer."

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14: Life, Unexpected<strong>

Sharon Raydor had dressed carefully for work. She wore an emerald linen suit that brought out every color in her eyes. Her cream blouse flattered her skin tone and she wore her hair in soft waves. Her black pumps with their sky-high heels made her legs look great, and she applied her makeup with precision. Professional, yes, but also seductive. Her eyeshadow was just a little smoky, her lipstick just a half shade redder than normal. Not over the top, by any means, but she hoped it would be enough to make Andy look twice at her.

Creature of habit that he was, Sharon knew about when Andy generally arrived at work, and timed her arrival to coincide with his. She crowed inwardly when she saw Brenda's car already in the deck. Good. She was in her office, then. Sharon saw Andy park and get out of his car, so she exited hers and walked toward the elevator as if she hadn't seen him. He hit the button and she approached him. "Good morning, Andy," she said.

He turned. "Oh, hiya, Sharon." He looked her over. "Lookin' good this morning."

Bingo. She knew he would notice. Andy always noticed what women wore. "Why thank you. I don't wear this suit much. Can't think why."

"I dunno, either. That color really brings out your eyes." Andy had complimented Sharon before, so this was nothing unusual, for him.

"You think so? Well, it's always nice to start the day with a good-looking man giving me compliments," she answered with a smile.

Andy snickered. "Hey, I do what I can." In the enclosed space of the elevator, he sniffed in Sharon's direction. "Is that your perfume?"

"Well, I doubt _you'd_ wear anything called 'Blossom.' Do you like it?"

"Yeah. It's nice. I hate heavy, musky perfume on a woman. Makes me think she's got her own personal street corner, somewhere."

Sharon laughed. Andy's sense of humor was consistently wicked, and she liked it. "You always make me laugh. Care to have lunch today?"

He thought a minute. "Sure. Brenda's in meetings all day, unless we catch a case, so yeah. Where do you want to go?"

"How about that little Thai place you like?"

"Sounds good. See you then," he said, stepping off the elevator.

"Sure." Sharon pressed the button for her floor and smiled as the doors closed.

Andy took Brenda a cup of coffee and she thanked him. "I doubt I'll see much of you today," she said. "I know I said I didn't care if we didn't get any cases this week, but meetings are the worst. Reckon we could manage a murder, somehow?"

He laughed. "I'll see what I can do, but something tells me you'll be stuck. Sorry about that."

"Me too. I can deal with paperwork, but I hate meetings worse than mosquitoes!"

"Chin up, babe. They don't last forever, even if they seem like they do."

"I know. Well, thank you for the coffee. I have to go."

Andy winked at her. "See you later."

His desk phone was ringing as he went out into the murder room. He answered it, and wished he hadn't. His desk calendar told him it was a full moon. Well, that explained the nutball on the phone, then. He listened patiently, told the woman he would check on it and hung up with a sigh of relief.

"What was that all about?" Provenza asked.

"Full moon call," Andy answered. That was enough. Some people might say the full moon made no difference in behavior, but any cop in the LAPD would disagree.

The rest of the morning passed quietly enough, and when Andy met Sharon for lunch, she seemed her usual self. Andy wondered if he had imagined the look on her face the night before.

* * *

><p>At the restaurant, Sharon took off her suit jacket. Her blouse was sleeveless and she was justly proud of her toned arms. God knows she lifted enough weights to keep them that way. But Andy seemed oblivious.<p>

Only he wasn't. He'd noticed how nice she looked, and pondered what she had up her sleeve. Still, lunch was pleasant, and Sharon was, he thought, in a pretty good mood. Of course, with him, she generally was. Now, he thought he noticed her brushing her leg with his fairly often, but she didn't seem to be aware of it. But a little voice was telling him it was deliberate.

As they walked outside, Sharon stumbled and Andy caught her. "Jeez, Sharon," he said. "I told Brenda and I'm telling you. Those damn high heels are gonna give you a broken ankle one day."

His hand on her elbow was steady and strong. "Thanks, Andy. Call the shoes a weakness. Some women buy purses. I buy shoes."

"Buy all the shoes you want. Just stop buying the ones on stilts, for cryin' out loud!"

"Your concern is touching," Sharon said, a little facetiously.

"Ain't it, though? I don't get why women think they have to go walking around on toothpicks, anyway."

Sharon grinned at him. "Beauty is pain."

Andy uttered a colorful expletive at that statement and then, "You're all nuts, is what you are."

When they got back to the parking deck, Sharon said, "Andy, I meant to ask one of my people to do this, but since you're here…"

"What do you need?"

"Oh, I have a huge box of files in my car that needs to go upstairs. Chief Delk had me bring them over from storage. He wants to look at all these old cases, for some reason. All he's gonna do is make his allergies worse, though. These files are pretty dusty. The box is clean, though. I put the old box inside a new one." She opened her trunk.

"Sure, I'll take it up for you," Andy answered and hefted the box out of the trunk. "What's in here? Ammo?"

Sharon chuckled. "Feels like it, I know. I had the officer at the storage building get it to my car for me."

"Where to?"

"My office. I have to log all the cases in my computer, so I'll know what he's got."

"O.K.," Andy answered.

They went into her office. The blinds were closed, which was normal. Sharon liked her privacy. Andy put the box on the table she indicated. "Tell Delk to get a forklift to move them back to storage when he's done," he cracked.

"There's an idea," Sharon answered. "Sit down a minute and catch your breath. Care for some water? I've got some bottles in my fridge, here."

"Yeah, I think I would. Man, that box must have weighed 70 pounds." Andy sat down.

"At least," Sharon said, handing him a bottle.

Andy took a long swallow of water and smiled. "Thanks. That's great."

"You're welcome." Sharon replied. She was debating with herself over whether to make a move now, or wait a couple of days. But Andy was here now, in her office, his guard down, and even seated, which, considering their height disparity, even with her heels, made life a lot easier. She decided to take a risk and went to the table with the files. She opened the box, looked inside and said, "Oh, I'd rather deal with an officer-involved-shooting today, instead of these files."

Andy laughed. "Sorry. No cases in my division, so I can't oblige you."

"Wisenheimer," she answered and, walking back around to her desk, she turned instead and, before Andy realized what was up, took his face in her hands and kissed him. When she raised her head, she said, "I didn't realize how much I'd miss doing that, Andy."

Andy, for his part, felt like he'd been knocked in the head, he was so shocked. "What the hell are you doing, Sharon?"

She ran gentle fingers through his hair, when he stopped her by taking her wrist. "I'm fighting for you. I decided I didn't want to give you up."

Oooohh. Andy should have known. He knew there had to be a reason Sharon was acting like this. "Don't do this, Sharon, please."

Her eyes narrowed. "Andy, it's just not fair that Brenda Leigh Johnson gets everything she wants, including you."

"C'mon. You said yourself I drive you crazy. What's the deal?" Andy was seriously tempted to bang his head on Sharon's desk in frustration. He did not need yet another soap opera in his life.

"You do drive me crazy. You always have. But in Monterey, I found out we really did get along very well. In and out of bed. And I've missed that."

Andy shook his head. "I had a great time, Sharon, but that was a colossal mistake I made going with you up there and I knew when I did it, that it was gonna come back to bite me in the ass."

Sharon turned her head. She would not cry in front of this man. Not again. Not about this. She took a deep breath and stared at him. "Well, I had to give it a shot. I should have known it wouldn't do any good."

Andy stood and put his hands on her shoulders. "Sharon, look. I told you then I thought I might be in love with Brenda. And I am. Have been." She was looking everywhere but at him, and Andy took her chin and forced her to look into his eyes. She didn't want to do that. Those eyes drew her in, made her melt. But he continued. "It doesn't mean I don't care about what happens to you. I really do. I honestly think you're a great person. You're smart, funny and sexy as hell. There has to be some male in LA County who sees that, too. You deserve that, Sharon."

Oh dammit. Now she _was_ going to cry. She knew she was. The last thing she wanted was for Andy to be nice to her when she wanted to smack him and throw Brenda off the roof. She couldn't even say a word. She just pressed her lips together.

Andy saw the sparkle of unshed tears in her eyes. "Sharon, I am so sorry. I swear I am. I feel like a jerk for ever going with you."

She shook her head. "No, Andy. It's my fault. I knew the risks. You never made me a single promise, and I said I was all right with that. You never lied to me. You've always been honest. I just can't get past the conviction that Brenda Leigh Johnson does _not_ deserve you."

His eyes were kind. "Maybe you deserve better than a wise-ass Jersey boy."

"Don't ever sell yourself short, Andy. I should have known better than to do this. I guess this wrecks any friendship, huh?"

"I think you're lonely, Sharon, and loneliness will make people do strange things." He hugged her. She put her arms around him and inhaled the scent of his aftershave, felt that strength under his coat. She was an idiot, but at least Andy was allowing her to be an idiot with dignity.

Andy pulled back and looked into Sharon's face. "It's O.K. We'll just say you had way too much wine at lunch and didn't know what you were doing." He winked at her.

She nodded. "Thanks, Andy."

"Not a problem," he answered and kissed her softly on the forehead. "See you later," he said and left her office.

Sharon collapsed into her chair. Maybe Andy was right. Maybe she was lonely. Maybe she needed to see more people. But she had played with fire and a singed heart was the consequence. But she never thought she'd _like_ Andy so much! Lust after him, sure. But she never thought he would be as fun, as charming – as sweet, as he was. She put her head in her hands. She would get over this. She had to.

Andy was hard put not to sprint to the elevator. He was just glad his complete lack of foresight where Sharon was concerned hadn't totally backfired on him. He just never thought she would do anything like that. Women didn't fight over him; they fought to get _rid_ of him! He had to wonder how much of this was Sharon actually liking him and how much was trying to get under Brenda's skin.

When he got off the elevator at his floor, he had calmed down a little, but was still shaking his head over the day's events. God save him from getting himself into another crap sandwich like that one.

A voice hailed him as he stepped into the hallway. "Andy! Been looking the place over for you!"

He looked up. It was Lt. Jim Emerick, from Hollywood Division. They'd known each other for years, but hadn't been in touch as often since Andy transferred to Robbery/Homicide and then to Major Crimes.

"Jim! How's it going?" Andy hailed his friend. They shook hands.

"Oh, you know Hollywood. Nothing is as it seems."

Andy laughed. Jim was from England, and had even served a couple of years with New Scotland Yard. But he had been with the LAPD as long as Andy, although his British accent, like Andy's Jersey one, still clung to his voice. "Never has been, Jim. That's why it's Hollywood. Come on into the murder room and I'll introduce you around. Slow week, and the Chief's in meetings."

"I've heard about that Chief of yours. Bit of a spitfire, isn't she?"

Andy tilted his head. "Yeah, you could say that," he answered with a grin.

Jim gave him a shrewd look. "Oh, Andy. Don't tell me. You and the Chief. Am I right?"

Andy looked stunned. "God, am I that easy to read?"

"I remember when you met your second ex-wife. I recognize the smug expression."

"Well, it's the real thing this time."

"Congratulations, then."

"Come on into the murder room," Andy said. Jim followed him in and Andy introduced him to the squad. He noticed Brenda was actually in her office, so he peeked inside. "Hey Chief? Got a minute? Somebody I'd like you to meet."

"Certainly, Lieutenant," Brenda said.

Andy motioned Jim inside. "Chief, this is Lieutenant Jim Emerick from Hollywood Division. Jim, this is Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson."

Brenda stood and extended her hand. "So nice to meet you, Lieutenant Emerick."

"Lovely to meet you, as well, Chief. And you're from, Atlanta? If I remember correctly."

"I am, Lieutenant. But your accent didn't bloom in Southern California, either."

He laughed. "No indeed. I grew up in Kent, a little southeast of London."

"Did you now? How interesting!" Brenda was looking Jim Emerick over. Goodness, but he was handsome! He was tall, like Andy, about the same age, she guessed, also with graying hair and dark eyes. He reminded her of someone, but she couldn't think who. A British actor, maybe. Who could it be? "Well, how in the world did you get to Los Angeles?"

"I spent two years with New Scotland Yard, when a talent agent persuaded me to come to Hollywood, told me I had a budding career as an actor. I was young, and stupid, so I did it. Turns out I'm a much better cop than I ever was an actor. So I joined the LAPD and here I am."

Brenda snickered. "Well, I've found over the years that sometimes, cops are the best actors in the world. So a little stage experience couldn't hurt."

Jim grinned at her. Charming woman. He could see why Andy liked her. "Do you know, I think it has helped, actually. The accent throws them off too. I've been accused of being a foreign spy!"

Andy laughed outright at that. "No way! You can't even hide a pair of deuces in a poker game. That's why it was always so much fun to play with you. You couldn't keep a straight face to save your life." He shook his head. "We'll get out of your hair now, Chief. Just wanted you to meet Jim."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Flynn. It was a pleasure, Lieutenant Emerick."

"Oh, the pleasure was certainly all mine, Chief," he returned gallantly and the men left her office.

Brenda grinned. She had met a lot of the MI5 agents in D.C. at Langley, and they all had that Old World courtliness. Well, most of them, anyway. Pope had insisted she get a computer for her office, even though all she ever used it for was surfing the Internet. She got online then, and started looking at images of British actors. John Mills? No. Alec Guinness? No. Laurence Olivier? Sadly, no. Daniel Craig? No. She sighed at that photo, though. She had liked him as James Bond. He was definitely hot. She kept searching and came across the man. There he was! She pulled up the image. Jeremy Irons. _That's _who it was! Jim definitely had more meat on his bones – about Gabriel's size, she guessed – and his face wasn't nearly as angular. Oh, they certainly weren't separated at birth or anything, but there was enough of a resemblance to jog her brain. She understood why a talent agent took one look at Jim Emerick and saw dollar signs. He was a fine looking man. She looked at the clock and sighed. One more meeting and she should be through for the day. Thank the Lord.

Andy's brain was working, meanwhile, too. Jim Emerick was a smart guy, and all the women in Hollywood Division had always chased him. Jim had a spouse die several years before, and hadn't had a serious relationship in years, that Andy knew of. And Sharon Raydor needed a good, steady man in her life. And, if she happened to be otherwise occupied, she wouldn't be after him. Which could only be a good thing.

"I like that Chief of yours, Andrew," Jim said as they went back out into the hall.

"Thanks. I kinda like her myself," Andy answered with a grin.

* * *

><p>"Don't know how long this will go on. See you at your place?" was the text Andy got late in the afternoon. "Sure," he texted in reply.<p>

With Brenda stuck in that meeting, Andy asked Jim if he wanted to go for a bite to eat. Jim agreed and when they left work, went to a local place.

"All right, Jim. You never darken the door of this building. What's got you over in our territory?" Andy asked.

Jim smiled. "Actually, I've been approved for a transfer to Robbery/Homicide. Since Beeson retired, they're short a lieutenant. I thought it might be interesting."

"Interesting?" Andy snorted. "You want to give up that cushy ride in Hollywood for Homicide? You nuts or something?"

"Leave it to you, Andy, to put things in clear perspective. No, I'm not nuts. I'm bored. Silly. And I'm sick of dealing with the Hollywood crowd. Isn't that why you transferred?"

"Well, yeah, I guess," he answered.

"So you understand," Jim continued. "I want to do more real police work, instead of continually talk to the local socialites about their lost designer dogs. Really, it drives me bonkers."

Andy laughed. "We'd take a good lost dog case, some weeks," he said.

"Oh, I know, grass is always greener. But I want to be more in the thick of what's really going on in this city."

"A lot of ugly crap, that's what," Andy answered.

"True, but it's such interesting crap!" Jim laughed.

"It is that. Too interesting some days. Changing the subject, though. You seeing anybody?"

"As in seeing a woman, you mean? No, why?"

"Just wondering."

"Who do you have in mind, Andy?"

Andy grinned. "Ever met Sharon Raydor? She's head of IA and FID."

Jim thought for a moment. "Can't say I've had the privilege." Then it hit him. "Oh! Isn't she the one they call the 'wicked witch'?"

"That's her."

"Why on earth would I be interested in the wicked witch, Andy? What have I done to you lately?"

Andy chuckled. "Nothing. But Sharon really has gotten kind of a bad rap. Oh, she can be a hell bitch on wheels, no doubt, but out of the office, she's great."

"And you would know this, how?" Jim was flatly dubious.

"We were together for a little while. Before Brenda and I started seeing each other."

"Cutting a rather wide swath aren't you, Andy?" Jim smirked.

"Ha, ha. She asked _me_, for your information."

Jim's eyebrows went up. "Is that so? Well, well. Will wonders never cease?"

"God, but you're just hilarious tonight, aren't you? Here's a second wonder for you then: it was the same with Brenda. She chased me."

"You've been drinking again, haven't you?"

Andy rolled his eyes. "Now I remember that other reason I came to Robbery/Homicide. I got tired of that wise-ass Brit who worked in Hollywood."

Jim held up a hand. "O.K. Guilty as charged. Sorry about that. But you do leave yourself wide open."

"Brenda says the same thing. I'm serious about Sharon, though. You should meet her."

"What does she look like?"

"Oh, average height, 5'5, I'd say. Killer body, big green eyes. Hair? Depends on her mood. It changes from, I guess you'd say dark auburn to brunette. She wears it long, though. Really smart. Scary smart, in fact. Good sense of humor – outside the office, anyway – and fun to be around. Again, outside the office. When she's here, she's all business."

"She sounds intriguing enough. Anything else?" Jim raised an eyebrow.

Andy looked heavenward, as if for patience. "Whaddaya want? A scouting report? She's _very_ intriguing."

"You know what I'm driving at."

"Yeah, I know. One word: hot. O.K.? Anything else, you've just gotta find out for yourself."

"See, I told you it was more interesting in your department. Can you arrange an introduction? I start in Homicide tomorrow."

"Yeah, meet me in the murder room and I'll take you by her office – say I'm introducing you around, since I know you. How's that?"

"Sounds like a plan, my friend."

* * *

><p>Andy and Brenda were snuggled on his sofa. "My friend, Jim?"<p>

"Mm-hmm."

"You think he's nice looking?"

Brenda stared at Andy. "Is this a trick question?"

"No, no. Just, from a woman's point of view, you like the way he looks?"

"Honestly? Yes. He's a good-looking man."

"Think he's good-looking enough to attract Sharon Raydor?"

Brenda knit her eyebrows. "Probably, but he seems like a nice guy. Why would you want to sicc that woman on him?"

Andy goosed her in the ribs, causing her to squeal. "C'mon, Brenda. Sharon is actually a pretty nice person, outside the office, anyway. And besides, wouldn't you rather she had something else to occupy her attention. Some_one_ else?"

"Hmm. Once you put it that way, maybe so. But I thought you said he works in Hollywood Division."

"He starts in Robbery/Homicide tomorrow."

"Is that so? Well, if you think it'll keep her from sniffing around you, I'm all for it."

"You need to talk to Philippa about your feelings concerning Sharon."

"I _don't_ need to. I know exactly how I feel about that woman."

"That's my point."

"You're downright exasperating sometimes, Andy Flynn."

He grinned at her. "If that's the worst you can come up with, I need to give you my second ex-wife's phone number. She can give you much better descriptions for me than 'exasperating,' let me tell you."

"I don't know why your ex-wives won't just get over it. What have you done to them?"

Andy kissed her hair and put his cheek next to hers. "I was a drunk. An obnoxious, nasty, mean-tempered drunk. Anything bad about me? It was fifty times, no, a _hundred _times worse when I was drinking. Any good points? Mostly non-existent. All I can do is make amends by how I treat them now. I do my best."

"Well, you're still obnoxious, and I manage to love you." She smiled archly at him.

Andy narrowed his eyes at Brenda, which immediately made her suspicious. Before she could react, he had her bare foot in his hands and was tickling it.

"Stop it! Stop it, Andy!" she squealed.

"Paybacks are hell, babe," he answered, still tormenting her foot.

Brenda kicked at him with her free foot, and connected with his ribs, unintentionally.

He dropped her foot and doubled over. "_Damn_!" he yelled. "Oh my God, but that hurt!"

Brenda clapped both hands to her mouth in horror. "Oh Andy! Sugar, I'm so sorry! I was just trying to get your knee or something! I didn't mean to kick you in your ribs. I'm so sorry! Are you all right?"

He rubbed his right side. "Yeah, I think so. It's O.K., babe."

"And it's on your bad side, too. Oh, Andy, honey!" She put both hands on his face. "You're white as a sheet! Let me look at it." She pulled his shirt up, but couldn't see anything. "I am so, so sorry. You poor thing. Are you sure you're all right?"

He nodded. "I'll be fine. I'll know better than to tickle you again, though. Learned that lesson."

"Sweetheart, I can't believe I did that. One of these days you are gonna file an assault charge on me, and I'll richly deserve it."

He started to laugh, and then winced. "Ow." He pulled her close. "C'mere. I oughta know by now that you do the first thing that pops into your head."

She laughed ruefully. "You're absolutely right." She leaned into him. "Maybe I do need to talk to Philippa about that woman."

"Remember what I said about letting people live in your head rent-free?"

"I remember. But I don't want to think about any of that stuff right now. Right now, it's just us."

"O.K. Just us." He rubbed his side again.

* * *

><p>The next day, Andy did take Jim around to introduce him to people he should know, and they did end up in the FID office. They walked through the main room, and Andy spoke pleasantly to Sharon's squad and knocked on her door.<p>

"Come in," came the response.

Andy looked inside. "Hi. Got a sec?"

Oh, she really didn't want to see Andy right now, but it must be important, since he was here without being called. "Certainly, Lieutenant." Her tone was chilly.

Andy heard the ice in her voice, but thought he had the antidote. "Captain, this is Lieutenant Jim Emerick. I knew him in Hollywood Division, and he's transferred to Robbery/Homicide. I'm just taking him around so he'll know who's who. Jim, Captain Sharon Raydor."

Sharon looked at the other man in her office. Holy… smoke. She stood, from habit, and extended her hand. "Lieutenant Emerick," she said.

Andy noted the look on her face with satisfaction. Yep, Jim was still at the top of his game where women were concerned.

"Captain Raydor," Jim said, taking her hand. "It's lovely to meet you. I've heard good things about you from Flynn."

Her mouth dropped open and she glanced at Andy, who had a look of complete innocence on his face. "Um-oh, well, ah, that is, how nice. It's a pleasure to meet you too. I hope you'll like working in the Homicide division."

"I'm sure I will, Captain. We'll let you get back to work now. I know how busy you must be."

Sharon was still stammering. "Well, yes, I suppose, but it's always nice to meet new people." She managed a smile at him.

"It is, isn't it?" Jim answered. "Have a pleasant day, Captain."

"You too, Lieutenant."

They left her office and when they got out of the FID offices, Andy started chuckling. "You've still got it, dude. I don't think I've ever seen Sharon Raydor speechless. That's an accomplishment."

Jim grinned. "I have to say, you were right about one thing, Andy. She's a striking woman. Very attractive."

"She is."

In her office, Sharon was still stunned. She sat at her desk, glasses in hand, staring at her door. Where in the world had Andy found that man? And why would he bring him by her office personally? He must be trying to set her up with the lieutenant. She tried to be angry with Andy, but when she thought about Jim Emerick's smile, she kind of went all gooey inside. And his accent! He sounded British to her. She turned to her computer and pulled up his personnel record in the database. Yes, there it was. He was British, but had been a naturalized U.S. citizen for years. He had been a police officer briefly in England. He had a fine service record, too. Certainly less troubling than Andy's, although she had come to terms with that some while ago.

She sat back in her chair. As disloyal and fickle as it sounded, if Andy was attempting to deflect her attention away from him with Jim Emerick, she thought she just might take the bait.

Andy found Brenda alone in her office and stepped inside. "Hey Brenda."

"What?"

"I think we have liftoff where Sharon and Jim are concerned."

Brenda gave him her best "surprised" look. "Are you serious? You really think they hit it off?"

"I think so."

Brenda clapped her hands. "Oh, that's wonderful! If it keeps that woman's mind somewhere else, that's fine and dandy with me." Then she glared at Andy. "It won't bother you to see her with another man, will it?"

Andy shrugged. "No. Why should it?"

"Just checking," she replied.

He shook his head. "So suspicious. Well, don't worry. Brenda, Fritz never cheated on you, did he?"

"Not that I'm aware of. Why?"

"Because you act like I'm just this close to ditching you and going chasing after Sharon Raydor."

She dropped her eyes. "It's ridiculous, Andy. I know it is. And I'm sorry. I will try to do better, I promise. How are your ribs this morning, by the way?"

He rubbed his side. "Fine. A little sore, but I'm O.K. You're gonna have to get your feet registered as deadly weapons, you know it?"

"Oh hush."

Andy chuckled, walked out of her office and sat at his desk.

* * *

><p>Gabriel glowered at Andy for a moment and turned back to his computer. So far, it had been business as usual in the murder room. Flynn had gone to Brenda's office a couple of times, but never for long, and it wasn't like they were in there necking or something. It always seemed very professional. David didn't want Andy to leave Major Crimes, and he certainly didn't want Brenda to transfer out, but he didn't want Andy and Brenda dating, either. Or anything else. He knew what they had done in Brenda's office the other night. He had come back to the murder room to get his cell phone. He'd left it on his desk. The room was dark, her office blinds were closed and there was no sign of anyone around, but he'd heard a noise from that direction and went to see what it was. He heard Flynn's unmistakable baritone chuckle and Brenda's giggle. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what was going on in there. David felt his cheeks and ears burning just thinking about it, and was glad no one could see him blush.<p>

Andy's cell rang. "Major Crimes, Lieutenant Flynn," he answered. A brief pause. "Oh, my God." Provenza and Sanchez looked up at Andy. "Where are you?" He grabbed a pen and began writing. "Be there ASAP, Mike. Hang on."

"Sanchez, get the Chief." Andy re-wrote the address in his notebook so the address was legible.

Brenda came out of her office. "What on earth is going on?"

"Lisa Tao's been shot. She's alive, but Chief, call Captain Raydor. Tao fired at the shooter and killed him."

Brenda brought a hand to her mouth. "Oh, my Lord. Where are they?"

"At the scene, waiting on the ambulance. I've got the address."

"All right," Brenda said. "Lieutenant Flynn, you and Provenza go together. Gabriel and Sanchez, with me. You can drive, Detective Gabriel."

"Yes ma'am," Gabriel answered. Andy handed him the address.

The room emptied as the Major Crimes squad headed out the door.

The EMTs were working on Lisa Tao when the crew arrived. Brenda nearly leaped out of David's car and ran to the ambulance.

"Mike. I'm so sorry about this. How is she?"

"She's stable, Chief. They're getting ready to take her to the hospital."

"O.K. Well, I'll have Sanchez bring your car to the hospital when we get through here, and I'll talk to you there, all right?"

Tao nodded and handed his weapon to her. Brenda thought he looked ten years older than he did yesterday. "O.K., Chief. I'll see you at the hospital." He got into the ambulance and it roared away.

Brenda looked around. They were in front of a convenience store in a normal neighborhood. The body was just inside the store. Two shots: one in the heart and one right between the eyes. The would-be shooter still clutched a handgun, himself. She walked back outside and looked around.

"Chief Johnson, how is Lisa Tao?" It was that woman.

"She's stable, Captain. Here's Mike's service weapon." She handed the gun to Raydor. "We'll need to get the shooter's gun bagged, too, and see what it tells us and get an ID on him."

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure, yet, Captain. I just know this individual apparently attacked Lisa Tao and Lieutenant Tao shot him. We're just getting started, too."

Sharon took a deep breath. "Even though this, as an officer involved shooting, is technically my investigation, you did call me, so let's work together, here. Why don't I let my people take care of the ballistics and physical evidence, and your squad can do the interviews and backgrounds and so forth? Will that be acceptable?"

Now why was Sharon Raydor extending the olive branch? Well, Andy would be pissed at Brenda if she didn't take it, so she nodded. "I think that will be fine, Captain. Thank you. The more hands we have on this, the quicker we'll get to the bottom of it."

"Very good. We'll take care of our end, then, and I'll meet you at the hospital."

"All right, Captain." Brenda nodded at the woman and looked for her team. Andy was already inside, talking with the convenience store clerk, while Provenza and Sanchez were interviewing the other customers in the store. Gabriel had the store manager in the back and they were reviewing the security tape.

Brenda went inside the store, where Andy was concluding his interview with the clerk. He turned to her. "Chief, the guy working the register says it was pretty straightforward. Shooter comes in, waving his gun in the air, yelling threats. Mike confronted him, told him to get down, you know, the routine, when Lisa comes out of the ladies room in the back. Guy freaks out when he sees her and gets off three shots, according to the clerk. Lisa was hit twice. Tao shot the guy and there he is."

"Has the clerk ever seen this man before?" Brenda asked as she looked at the shooter again.

"He says no," Andy answered. "So who knows? We'll probably need a tox screen. My guess is the guy was on something. But Gabriel's in the back looking at the security tapes with the manager."

"I think you're probably right, Lieutenant," Brenda answered. "I'm going to go look at those tapes, myself."

"I'd like to see them as well." That was Sharon. She had come into the store.

Brenda glanced at Andy. He raised an eyebrow at her. "That will be fine, Captain. So let's go take a peek, shall we?" She walked to the office, her footsteps smacking out the frustration she couldn't show. Sharon followed her. Andy grinned as he watched them. They would probably never be friends, exactly, but he was going to do his best to make sure they weren't mortal enemies, either.

The two women got into the office. Gabriel said, "Chief, the tapes show everything, and it's like the guy behind the counter said. No warning, nothing. Guy just comes in and starts waving the gun around. Here. Let me rewind them for you." He saw Sharon in the doorway. "Hello, Captain Raydor. I'll get these tapes ready so you and the Chief can see them."

"Thank you, Detective," Sharon said.

David tinkered with the machine for a moment and started the tapes. Sharon and Brenda could see the action from four angles from the various cameras. A man, obviously their now dead body, came inside the store, gun drawn. He was obviously yelling, waving his arms. They could see Tao move into the frame, gun in one hand, badge in the other.

Brenda sighed in relief. Well, that put out that fire. Tao had obviously identified himself as law enforcement. "Do any of these have sound?" she asked.

"Yes, Chief," Gabriel answered. "The camera at the cash register. Doesn't show the suspect, though."

"Doesn't matter. I want to hear that feed synched up with the other cameras. Can you do that?"

"Sure," Gabriel said. "Just start them all running at the same time." He did a bit more tinkering and replayed all five camera angles, with the sound from the register camera.

She couldn't understand a word the shooter said, but that's not what Brenda was listening for. As Tao moved into the frame, she heard his voice clearly, "LAPD! Drop your weapon! Drop your weapon!" The shooter paused for a moment and Tao took a step towards him. Then, the shooter pointed his gun to the back. That must have been when Lisa Tao came out of the bathroom.

Three shots in quick succession from the shooter's smaller weapon. Then two, from Tao's Glock. Brenda could hear the distinct difference in the sounds each weapon made. The tapes ended with Tao on his cell, running back to check on his wife.

"Well, that pretty much settles that, Captain. I'd say this is about as clear-cut a case as you ever get. Lieutenant Tao identified himself, told the perp to stand down, and didn't fire until the shooter got off three rounds. It doesn't get much more cut-and-dried than that."

"While I'm strongly inclined to agree with you, Chief Johnson, I still have to finish my investigation. Just to make sure all the t's are crossed and the i's are dotted," Sharon coolly replied.

Brenda counted to ten. "That will be fine, Captain. Detective, let's get copies of the tapes and give them to Captain Raydor's team. They're handling the physical evidence. Then, let's get to work on finding out who our shooter is."

David shot Brenda a look, but said, "Sure, Chief," and to Raydor, "I'll get the tapes to your people."

"Thank you Detective," Sharon answered. "Thank you for your cooperation, Chief Johnson."

"You're welcome, Captain," Brenda sweetly replied, and when Sharon was out of hearing, growled, "That woman!"

"Why are we doing it this way, Chief?" Gabriel asked.

"Because it's an OIS, which means technically, it's her ballgame. But if we want to continue investigating, we have to play nice. I hate that woman!" Brenda spat, and walked into the store. She looked in her purse and found two one-dollar bills. She grabbed the biggest candy bar in the store, slapped the money on the counter, said, "Keep the change," and walked outside. "Lieutenant Provenza, when Detective Gabriel is finished inside, you two can come to the hospital. Detective Sanchez, please drive Mike's car there and Lieutenant Flynn, please drive me there. I need to talk to him before that woman does."

"Sure Chief," Andy replied, hiding a grin.

As they got into Andy's car, Brenda buckled up, then tore into the candy with ferocity. "Oh, that _woman_!" she spluttered through a mouthful of caramel. "Why do I have to deal with her?"

Andy waited until Brenda finished stomping her feet on the floorboard and swallowed gigantic bite of candy. "Because you do. You know, she doesn't do this just to piss you off. Most of the time," he amended. "She has her job to do. You have yours."

"But her doing her job always interferes with me doing mine!" She chewed again and swallowed. "Want a bite?"

Andy looked over at the candy bar. "Yeah. Pinch off a piece from the end you haven't wrecked."

Brenda glared at him, but did as he asked. She handed him the candy. "I don't have any germs I haven't already shared with you," she said sarcastically.

That got a laugh. "I just wanted a neater bite. The end you've been working on is kinda ragged."

She looked at the candy and nodded in agreement. "The only reason she went to IA is so she'd have a better shot at chief one day. That's what she told me when I was up for the job. She also said I'd slept my way to the top. Because of Will, you know."

Andy shook his head. Oh, good grief. "You hated her long before then, though," he answered.

"Yeah, but that little remark didn't help any. Andy, do you really think people feel that way about me? Do they think because I had a relationship with Will Pope years before I got to LA that I 'slept my way to the top?' Do they?"

Andy reached over and patted Brenda's knee. "Calm down, babe. Anytime a woman is a ranking official, anywhere, somebody thinks she screwed around to get there. This division's closed cases rate speaks for itself. Don't worry about it."

"It just makes me _mad_!" Brenda replied.

"Can I throw an AA saying at you, here?"

She glared at him. "What is it?"

"This: What other people think about me is none of my business."

Brenda tore off another piece of candy and looked incredulously at Andy. "What? _What_? What's that supposed to mean? I shouldn't care what other people think about me?" Now she was bursting with righteous indignation.

"It means just what it says. Think about it for a minute," he said quietly, having found out that was the best way to deal with Brenda's outbursts.

"Well, you AA people have some good ideas about some things, but that's just silly! Of _course_ it's my business!"

"You think so, huh?" Andy wondered what had possessed him to throw out that axiom. He should have known it would set off a bomb.

"Well, _yes_, if they're thinking about me, right?"

"If it makes you feel any better, it really pissed me off the first time my sponsor said it to me, O.K.? So just chew on it and see if it starts making sense."

Brenda smacked her hands on her thighs. "I am _not_ pissed off!" Then she sat back, deflated. "Well, maybe I am. A little. I just don't like you defending that woman."

"I'm not defending 'that woman.' I'm defending the officer. Two different things, all right?"

Brenda finished her candy bar and wiped her mouth. "Can we swing by Starbuck's? I need some coffee."

"Sure, babe," Andy said, amusement in his voice, which irritated Brenda no end.

* * *

><p>When they got to the hospital, Brenda looked around for Sharon's car, but didn't see it. Good. She sighed. "I wonder how Lisa Tao is doing?"<p>

"Let's go in and find out," Andy said.

Mike Tao was in the surgical waiting room. His mother had brought his children, and they were sitting with him in a huddle.

Brenda went to them. "Mike, how's Lisa?"

He looked up. "Hi, Chief. She's just out of surgery. The doctor said a bullet caught her lung and deflated it, but it's been re-inflated, so that's good, and the other bullet nicked her rib, but went through without doing a whole lot of damage. She lost some blood, but she'll be fine."

"Oh, I'm so glad! Andy -um, Lieutenant Flynn and I have been real worried."

"I know, Chief, and I appreciate it," Tao answered.

Andy approached the family. "Hey, Mike. Good to hear about Lisa. That's great news. Chief needs to get your statement, though. I'll sit with the rugrats while you talk."

"Hey, Lieutenant! I'm way too old to be a rugrat!" That was Mike's son, Mike Jr., who at the ripe old age of 12, was feeling mature.

"Maybe so, Mikey. But Squeaker here ain't." "Squeaker" was Andy's pet name for Mike's seven-year-old daughter, Zoe. "You're still a rugrat, aren't you?"

Zoe looked up shyly at Andy. She'd had a giant crush on him ever since she could remember. Andy called her "Squeaker" because he said she squeaked like a mouse when he picked her up. She climbed into Andy's lap and put her head on his shoulder. "I'm glad you're here, Andy," she said softly.

"Glad to be here, sweetie." He turned to Mike's mother. "Pardon my manners, ma'am. I'm Andy Flynn."

Mrs. Tao smiled at him. "Nice to meet you. I'm May Tao. We're so thankful Lisa wasn't hurt more seriously. And so glad Mike's a cop. Makes everything go a lot faster. We are very blessed."

Andy nodded in agreement. "Definitely," he said.

Brenda watched Andy with Mike's kids. She really couldn't recall seeing Andy interact with children that often. Occasionally, yes, but it was a rare thing. He liked kids, obviously. His children were quite a bit older, and probably hadn't had much to do with him since he was sober. It was a little sad.

"They like Andy," Mike said, reading Brenda's mind.

"Yes they do, don't they? Zoe sure seems to have claimed him."

Mike laughed. "She's had a case for him since she was three and he carried her around like a football. She loved it. She told her mom not terribly long ago that, if she could get married, she'd marry me first and Andy second."

Brenda laughed. "That is so sweet. I know I felt the same way about my Daddy. And that's good. A little girl should be able to depend on her Daddy."

"I couldn't agree more, Chief."

"Well, as unpleasant as it may be, let's go over what happened. I've seen the tapes and I know you did it by the book, but just to satisfy that woman, let's talk about it."

As they talked, Gabriel was on the phone with the department, trying to get the shooter identified. Finally, he got a little information. He borrowed Tao's iPad and started searching. What he found was heartbreaking. He called to Provenza and showed him what he had found.

Provenza shook his head. "Sad. My God. Tell the Chief."

Andy saw something was up and, ruffling Zoe's hair, sat her on the floor and went to where everyone was talking. "What's going on?"

"We got an ID on the shooter, Lieutenant," Gabriel said. "Look." He handed Andy the iPad.

Andy read the information. "Oh, man. The worst."

"So who is he?" Mike asked.

"Well, Mike," Brenda answered, " His name is Brent Jarman. He was 35. He was diagnosed paranoid schizophrenic and was in a state hospital for long-term care, but the hospital closed and he wasn't able to stay in a group home. He wouldn't take his meds. According to this, his mother has filed numerous orders, trying to get a judge to compel him to take his medication, but he wouldn't do it. He was probably seeing aliens and hearing God knows what when he came into that store this morning."

Mike shook his head. "Heartbreaking. I am so sorry."

"I know Mike, but Brent Jarman had a full clip in that gun of his. He had six shots left. You had no choice," Brenda answered.

"Yeah, Chief, but I am so sorry I had to be the one..."

Andy patted Mike's shoulder. "Listen, Mike. What if you hadn't been in that store? He might have killed two or three people."

"I know it Andy. But it's not like he was a career criminal. He had a mental illness and certainly wasn't responsible for himself."

"No, but you did only what you had to do to protect yourself, Lisa and the other people in that store," Brenda said. "I want you to see the staff psychologist, all right?"

"I will, Chief," Tao said. He went back to sit with his children and hugged them both.

* * *

><p>It was early evening, and Sharon stopped by Brenda's office to give her the results of the physical evidence so far. "Obviously, my investigation is closed, with no fault towards Lieutenant Tao," she said.<p>

"Thank you, Captain," Brenda answered.

"Thank you, Chief, for working with me. Again, I do appreciate your cooperation."

"You're welcome. I'm just sick about this whole thing."

Sharon nodded. "Believe me, I am too." She inclined her head to Brenda and left her office. She was feeling horribly depressed. She was paying no attention to her surroundings as she walked toward the elevator, and nearly ran over someone.

"Excuse me, I'm sorry!" she said, and looked up at Lieutenant Jim Emerick.

"Captain Raydor, are you all right?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm fine," she answered.

"I heard about Lieutenant Tao and his wife. So grateful for the outcome."

"Me too."

"Captain, you look a little downtrodden. If you think it would perk you up, I'd love to have dinner with you tonight."

Sharon looked up into Jim's dark eyes. He smiled gently. "You know, Lieutenant, I think that's the best thing I've heard today."

"Shall we, then?" He offered her his arm and as she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, had a feeling Andy had done her a solid favor. Andy was in the breakroom and watched them go by with the feeling of a job well done.


	15. Chapter 15: Getting Personal

**A/N:** The next one. Thanks, SF, for the suggestions! They are greatly appreciated, and will probably pop up in the next chapter. A little plot, a little peek inside Brenda's and Andy's heads, and yes, goodness. Thank you all for the kind reviews, and R&R here, too, please!

_Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer."_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15: Getting Personal<strong>

Philippa was talking to Brenda. "Well Brenda, I'm actually glad you brought up the subject of Captain Raydor. I knew you had mentioned her, and knew you weren't exactly fond of the woman, so let's talk about it. But first, why did you decide to bring her up at all?"

"Andy told me I needed to," Brenda answered

That surprised the therapist. She knew she had grilled Andy pretty thoroughly when she met him, she knew it had really ticked him off, and she got the strong impression he didn't like her much because of it. So, knowing he still wanted Brenda to see her, and was giving her some suggestions for topics told her a lot about Andy. He apparently wanted what was best for Brenda, and whether _he_ liked her therapist or not was immaterial. Philippa did rather regret going after Andy like she did, because she actually liked the man. But she couldn't allow personal feelings to get in the way of her work with a client, either. However, since Brenda was deeply attached to Andy, Philippa was just as glad he encouraged the counseling to continue. She had a feeling if Andy told her she needed to find another therapist, Brenda would consider it.

"Tell me about Captain Raydor and your history with her."

Brenda took a deep breath and plunged into the story of Sharon Raydor and her continual interference with Major Crimes. She didn't want to tell Philippa the story about Andy's involvement with that woman, but knew it all had to come out, eventually. "So that's it. The whole ugly, sordid story," she concluded.

Philippa leaned back in her chair and chuckled. "Brenda, for someone who has no aspirations to celebrity, you can certainly get yourself into some interesting situations."

"Andy said it was like living a soap opera for a while."

"Andy has a clear view of the world. And you say you slapped him? Actually hand-to-face contact?"

Brenda nodded, shamefaced. "I slapped him as hard as I could. Left a handprint on his face."

"What did he do?"

"Well, after I slapped him, I shoved him real hard and he put my arm behind me, sat me down on the sofa and told me if I came after him again, he was gonna file an assault charge on me."

"But he wasn't rough with you or anything."

"No, not at all. He didn't have to be. Lord, Philippa, Andy outweighs me by how much? And he's strong as an ox. He _could_ have hog-tied me and left me there, if he'd felt like it! But no, he just put me on the sofa."

"Wow. He's such a – a teddy bear where you're concerned. I mean, I can see him in a showdown kind of situation, and I'd be terrified. But with you, there's none of that."

"No. I've never been afraid of Andy, even when he was really mad at me. I just always knew I was safe. I've never felt remotely uneasy around him, for my personal safety. Now, there have been a couple of times when I worried that he was gonna break a suspect clean in two, but never for myself."

"He's such a contradiction. But back to Captain Raydor. Now, be as honest with me concerning this as you've been about everything else. Do you truly believe she acts the way she does just to make you angry, or is she just doing her job and you're not wild about how she does it?"

"I don't like it that she apparently has no clue what is involved in trying to close a case! She doesn't seem to understand that, yes, suspects have their rights, but my first priority is justice for the victims. I'm not out to violate their rights deliberately, but come on! Most of these people have done some pretty bad things and the people they hurt, to say nothing of their families, deserve justice. The system should work for the victims, once in a while."

"O.K., granted. But is this deliberate behavior on her part? Just to annoy you?"

"Not always, but definitely sometimes."

"Now, I think there's absolutely a personality conflict here. You two just rub each other the wrong way, and that would be the case if you had never worked together. However, some of Sharon's past behavior, combined with your deep suspicion of her every motive, _plus_ her history with Andy, all add up to an unpleasant situation. What does Andy say about it all, out of curiosity?"

"He says mostly, she's doing her job, and she gets in my way, and I don't like it. He also told me I'm letting her live in my head, rent free, and that what other people think of me is none of my business." Brenda sighed at the end of that statement.

Philippa shook her head. "I think I'm starting to see what's up, here, partially. Does Andy sponsor anyone?"

Brenda shook her head. "No. I asked him. He said the job just doesn't allow him to be there for someone like a sponsor needs to be."

"Except for you."

"Huh?"

"I don't think it's conscious on his part, but Andy is sort of _your_ de facto sponsor."

Brenda looked upset at that. "You mean, I'm some kind of _project_ for him?"

"No, no. I'd say Andy's not a fixer, but he is, in that his job allows him to seek justice for other people, which is sort of being a fixer," she answered.

"So he doesn't really love me? He's just _fixing_ me?" Now she was really worried.

Philippa looked exasperated. "Looks like your insecurity where he's concerned is another issue to focus on. Normally, I don't do this, but if I don't say it, I'm afraid you'll attempt to beat the poor man senseless because you think he doesn't care about you. I think Andy loves you very much. But because he's been in AA so long, it just starts coming naturally to him to share his recovery with people he loves, and that includes being very honest with you, which can include sponsor-like behavior. No, I don't think you're his project. However, I think he does want you to be the best Brenda Leigh Johnson you can possibly be, and there's not a thing wrong with that."

Brenda nodded. "Maybe you're right."

"This week, I want you to get a legal pad or something, and write a letter to Sharon Raydor. Get it all out. Then, bring it to me next week and we'll go over it. I think it will really help you define what's going on inside your head concerning her."

"I'd rather write one to Andy," Brenda replied.

"So write one. You can show that one to me or not – your decision. But it might help you get your feelings for him organized, too. Maybe help alleviate that suspicion you have. I don't think there's enough going on to write one to Will Pope, but I do think you should write one to Fritz."

Brenda's eyes widened. "To Fritz? Why, for heaven's sake?"

"I think there are some things you needed to tell him. Like about you and Andy. You really got off a little easier by not having to tell him you had feelings for another man. Even his death is easier to deal with. You didn't have to say some hard things to him. And I believe those things need to be said. Try it and see how far you get with it. If you write it, I'd like to see that one, if you're comfortable doing that. So, you've got some homework to do this week."

"O.K. I'll do it."

Brenda drove back to her place. Write a letter to that woman? Oh, good Lord. What a thought.

Andy had the weekend rotation for the division, so she knew she wouldn't see much of him, until later in the evening, assuming nothing happened. So, Brenda got one of her large legal pads, a couple of pens, and starting writing a letter to Sharon Raydor.

* * *

><p>Hours later, Andy let himself into Brenda's place and looked for her. She was lying on the sofa, sound asleep, surrounded in yellow legal pad pages. There must have been 14 or 15 pages. He wondered what in the world was going on. He started to wake her, then spotted another legal pad on the side table. At the top, it said, "My sweet Andy." He picked it up, then put it back down. He didn't know if she meant for him to read that or not. It was private and he shouldn't even look at it. He fought with himself over whether to continue reading it. Finally, he gave in, and feeling like a complete sneak, took the legal pad to the kitchen table, put on his glasses and started reading. He'd learned to decipher Brenda's atrocious handwriting over the years.<p>

"_My sweet Andy. I know a lot of people would say 'sweet' is the very last thing you are, and sometimes they're right. But then, I think about __my__ Andy, and I wonder if we're talking about the same man. _

_I think about how you bring me coffee in the mornings, keep my candy drawer stocked, how you look at me in the office and wink at me. You know what kind of Chinese food I like, and you always remember to ask me if I want something from Starbuck's if you're making a run. _

_I'm glad I didn't know you when you were drinking. I know I wouldn't have liked you very much. I wouldn't have wanted to be around you. I'm so glad you're not drinking anymore. _

_I don't really know when I started loving you. I started liking you when you told me I had great legs. I didn't say much at the time, but I went home and laughed about it. I've loved you for a long time, though, whether I knew it or not. I think I told you I knew I loved you after you were attacked. I couldn't imagine a world without you in it. _

_Some of the stunts you and Provenza have pulled are enough to try anybody's patience. I must have loved you then to have wanted you around after they happened. I have to tell you: I told David one time that I had only one of him and a dozen of the rest of my squad. I was so wrong. Maybe I thought then that I could get along without you. But I couldn't have. There's no way I could have. I was so wrapped up in me, though, that I thought I could do it all by myself. Everything._

_You have such a tough outer shell. You acted like you pretty much hated women, except for sex, because of what you'd been through with other women. You acted like the ultimate sexist pig. But I found out something. You really like women. You love them, in fact. You just didn't want to risk getting messed up again. I get that. I really do. _

_Then, just once or twice, you let me see past the tough guy. Maybe that's when I really fell in love with you. I know you're not perfect. I know you'd be the first one to tell me so. But Andy, I know a different man. _

_I know the man who brings me doughnuts and cooks and doesn't gripe because I have to be at work for a case. I know the man who kisses my ears and notices when I'm wearing something new. It may not seem like much to some women, but to me, it's everything I always wanted._

_Mostly, you always encourage me to be a better person. You support me and you love me just like I am. You just want me to be happy with who I am, and I don't think anyone in my life has ever wanted that for me. _

_I love you, Andy, and I want you in my life from now on." _ There, it ended.

Andy put the pad on the table and stared at it. He sort of wondered if Philippa had asked her to do this. He didn't know quite what to think about it. He felt like he had been entrusted with top secret information, which, considering how it probably came about that she wrote it, he was. And it was information he wasn't supposed to have, anyway. He knew he would have to tell her he read it, if for no other reason than he didn't know how to be about this. It was going to take some thought.

"So now you know everything, you sneaky, nosy devil. I guess you planned to put that right back where you found it and act like you never saw it." Brenda was standing in the doorway, hands on her hips.

Andy turned to look at Brenda, then took his glasses off. "No, I was going to tell you I'd seen this. I couldn't keep this from you. But I'm sorry I read it without asking you first. I shouldn't have done that." His voice was soft, thoughtful.

"Are you sorry you read it?" Brenda almost challenged him. She was terrified to hear his answer.

"No. Only that I did it without clearing it with you. Can I ask why you wrote it?"

"Sort of an assignment from Philippa. She wanted me to write a letter to that woman, and I said I'd rather write one to you, so she said write that one, too."

That explained the pages scattered all over the room. She had scribbled furiously on those pages, ripped them off the pad and threw them on the floor. Andy smiled. No wonder she had fallen asleep. After the expenditure of that kind of emotion, she was probably worn out.

"What are you grinning about?" Brenda snapped.

"Only the thought of you writing that letter to Sharon Raydor. I'm surprised the pages didn't catch fire."

"They probably should have. But what about this?" She gestured to the pad on the table.

"What about it?"

"What _about_ it? What, you know, I mean, now that you've read it, what? You're just freaked out about it, aren't you?" Brenda was really agitated.

"Do I look freaked out?" Andy asked.

Brenda looked Andy over. No, he didn't look at all freaked out. He was calm and seemed relaxed. "No, you seem O.K."

He nodded. "Maybe it's because I am." He held out his hand. "C'mere, Brenda."

She shook her head. "No. I feel weird now."

Andy wasn't about to let her run from this. If he did, they'd never have another honest moment in their relationship. "Brenda Leigh, come here. Now."

Brenda looked into Andy's dark eyes. He wasn't angry that she could see, but he was dead serious. She bit her lower lip and looked doubtfully at him. She felt like flying out of the house.

"You're not running from me, Brenda Leigh. I'm not gonna let you. Come over here. We can't un-ring that bell, and I don't want to. So come here."

Like a naughty child, Brenda slowly went to Andy and took his outstretched hand. He pulled her gently into his lap and put his arms around her. He put his cheek next to hers and said, "What are you afraid of, babe?"

"I don't know."

"Yes you do."

"I guess that if you knew how much I loved you, that you'd get all weird and it would make you want to pull away, and I didn't want that. I'm silly and I know I'm silly, but Andy, you just don't know!" She was on the verge of tears.

"Don't know what?"

"You just don't know how I feel. I've never felt about anybody like I do about you. I love you so much it flat out scares me! What if you don't love me as much? What if you don't need me as much as I need you? You don't tell me how you feel!" She hid her face in his neck.

Andy held Brenda tighter. He didn't know exactly how to answer her, just because he was still a little overwhelmed. So, he stood with her in his arms and carried her into the bedroom, since the den, including the sofa, was littered with paper. He sat her on the bed and handed her a box of tissues, then sat down himself and cuddled her body to his side.

"Let me tell you a story, Brenda," he began. "You've seen my family on T.V. You know, the tough, loud, Jersey family. We were completely stereotypical. My dad drank, my mom hated it, so she started drinking to cope, my grandma lived with us and was the stable influence. But we didn't talk about junk like 'feelings' in my house. That kind of crap was for sissies. Only west coast California flakes did stuff like talk about 'feelings.'" He laughed. "That was the number one hardest thing about AA for me. I had to talk about my feelings. In front of people, yet. Men in my family, hell in my whole _neighborhood_, didn't talk about feelings. You did what you had to do, sucked it up and went on with life. No wonder we were a bunch of drunks. It was awful. But in AA, I had to talk about why my wife was pissed with me, why I was pissed at her, why I was pissed at the world in general. Over the years, I at least learned to tell people in my home group what they meant to me, that I cared about them. And my sisters. I learned to say I love you to them. And my mom, and of course, grandma. But it was always easy to tell grandma I loved her."

He fell silent for a moment. Brenda whispered, "Go on, please."

"Yeah. Well, I never really learned to say it to either of my ex-wives. I said it mostly when they said it to me. It was what you were supposed to do. Not that I didn't love them, but I didn't know how to say it, you know, spontaneously - not really. And I thought that you showed you loved someone. You didn't have to tell them." He kissed Brenda's hair at this. "So it's really tough for me. I'm still completely no good at talking about my feelings, not like this, one-on-one, except with my sponsor, and even he says it's like pulling teeth, sometimes." He sighed. "But don't ever doubt I love you, Brenda. Don't ever doubt I need you. I do, I swear. I just can't always say it like other people do. I try to show you, though."

"Like you bringing me doughnuts or doing paperwork I don't want to do. You're saying you love me."

"That's it," he answered. "But I know it's important for you to hear me say it too, and I promise I'll try to do it more often."

Brenda reached up and kissed Andy's cheek. "I don't know what in the world I'd do without you, Andy."

"Let's not find out anytime soon."

"No, let's not," Brenda answered.

In reply, Andy cuddled closer to Brenda and she put her head on his chest, over his heart. Hearing his heartbeat and feeling the easy rhythm of Andy's breathing comforted Brenda in a way she couldn't even begin to explain. Andy didn't know how long he held her in his arms like that.

* * *

><p>Tao was back at work Monday, having promised faithfully that he would see the staff psychiatrist. Lisa was still in the hospital, but had insisted her husband come to work, knowing he'd be better off there. The grandparents had the children.<p>

Toward mid-afternoon, a woman walked into the murder room. She was in her middle 50s, but looked much older. Brenda's office door was open and she heard a familiar accent ask for Lieutenant Tao. She stood and went to her doorway.

The woman approached Tao's desk. She said, "Lieutenant, my name is Lily Jarman. Brent Jarman was my son."

Tao was on his feet immediately, but Brenda could see the color had drained from his face. "Mrs. Jarman," he said. "I-I..." he began, but the woman stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"No, Lieutenant, it's all right. Please, sit back down. I have something I want to tell you." Her voice was soft, but Brenda could hear years of sadness in it. She would bet her last nickel Mrs. Jarman was from North Georgia. She had that mountain accent.

"Lieutenant, you probably know Brent had paranoid schizophrenia." Tao nodded. "Well, he wouldn't take his meds, and I couldn't make him. I've been to every judge in this county since the state hospital where he was closed, and none of them would issue any kind of an order to make him take them. When he was on his medication, Lieutenant, he was the little boy I raised. He was kind, polite, respectful, he could work a steady job. He was so good with his hands. He could make anything. But when he quit taking his medication, he was different. When he did that, I believe with all my heart he asked the devil to come into his life. And the devil did, let me tell you. He surely did."

Brenda approached the woman. "Mrs. Jarman, would you and Lieutenant Tao like to come into my office and talk about this? I'm Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson."

The woman smiled at her. "Pleased to meet you. But no, this is fine. I ain't proud. And I ain't ashamed. Anyway, I'm from Ellijay, Georgia. It's a little town in the mountains, northwest of Atlanta. I grew up working in the apple and peach orchards. I got married when I was 19, and had Brent a year later. His daddy wasn't any count, and he left, and I hadn't heard a word from him. Brent seemed like a normal little boy until he was about 15 or 16. That's when it all started. It was everything you ever heard about – you know, hearing voices, the whole thing. I took him to so many doctors, and they finally told me what was wrong with him down at Emory in Atlanta. They got him on some medication that really helped him, as long as he would take them. That's when I found out about what families like this one have to deal with. We do and we do, and we do for them, but if they won't stay on their meds, it don't do a bit of good." She sighed.

The murder room was silent. Even the phones went unanswered as the crew listened to Mrs. Jarman's soft voice tell her story. "I was finally able to get him admitted to the state hospital in Rome. That's about 80 miles from Ellijay, but I could go see him. He was doing real good there. He took his medication and was stable. Then, the state closed the hospital. I tried putting him in a group home, because Lord knows, he was too much for me by myself, but he went off his meds and they couldn't handle him. My sister came out here years ago. She's a beautician and told me to bring Brent out here, that they had state hospitals. Same thing. I had him admitted, and he did real good. Then that place closed, too. That was six months ago. It's been all I could do to keep him out of jail. He needed to be somewhere real structured, where everything was on a routine." Here she looked at Lieutenant Tao, whose face was full of pity for this woman. Brenda looked at her dress. It had seen a lot of wear and it dawned on Brenda. The dress was black. She must have been to her son's funeral this afternoon or this morning. Mrs. Jarman's next words confirmed it: "Brent's funeral was this morning. We're taking him back to Georgia to bury him. I don't know if I'll be back here or not. But Lieutenant, what I really wanted to say was that you didn't do a thing wrong. In fact, I believe you were an agent of God Friday morning."

Tao was shocked. "Excuse me, ma'am?" he said.

"Yes sir. I'm a churchgoing woman. I don't see demons under every rock, but I told you I thought Brent invited the devil inside him when he quit taking his medication. I don't know how in the world he got ahold of that gun he had. He was mighty sneaky that way. But I have no doubt that when he went into that store, the devil was the one in charge. I lost my son, but I saw on the news about the people in that store. They had children and grandchildren. You and your wife were there. I'm so sorry about her, too. How is she getting along?"

"Very well, thank you."

"Praise God. I'm glad to hear it. My point is, that I'd rather lose my son, than have other people lose a loved one because of him. I'd rather bury him than other people be burying a mama or a daddy or a child. I said a long time ago this is probably how he was going to end up. And in jail, he wouldn't have lasted long, I know. And he would have suffered. When he died Friday, he never knew what hit him and he didn't suffer none. It's a mighty hard thing, Lieutenant, but I can make it. I've got the good Lord to help me and I can stand it. I'll make it. I'm just thankful in knowing that nobody else had to go to a funeral today because of Brent. The Lord had you in that store Friday morning. He knew I could stand losing Brent. I lost him years ago, truth be told. So don't you lose a minute of sleep about this. Don't you worry. I don't hold it against you. You did what you had to do. Maybe nobody else could have done it. I just wanted you to know I don't have no hard feelings against you, Lieutenant." She held out her hand and Tao took it gently.

"Thank you, Mrs. Jarman. I'm sorry I had to do it," he said. "I didn't want to."

"I know you didn't." She looked at the clock. "I guess I need to be going now. I've taken enough of your time, and I need to get the next bus back to my part of town."

"Please, let me call you a cab," Tao said.

"No thank you sir. I ain't proud, but I don't take charity."

Tao looked upset, and Brenda decided to intervene. She put a hand on the woman's shoulders. "It's awful hot out there, ma'am, and I'd hate to think of you having to go to your son's funeral this morning, and then sitting on that hot bus for a long way. Tell you what. Detective Gabriel can drive you home. It's not charity. We do this all the time. It's the least we can do."

"I don't want to impose on anybody," the woman said.

"You're not imposing. Detective Gabriel had to go out this afternoon anyway and he can do this while he's out. All right?"

Mrs. Jarman stood. "Well, I guess that'll be all right then. Thank you very much," she said, and extended her hand to Brenda, who took it. Gabriel said, "If you'll just come with me, Mrs. Jarman, I'll be glad to drive you home."

"Thank you, Detective. I do appreciate it," she said, and nodding to the crew, left the room.

Brenda sat down in the chair next to Tao's desk. "Did you see her hands?" Tao nodded.

"What about them?" Sanchez asked.

"They were hands that have worked hard," Brenda answered. "I've seen so many women like her. They're just faded looking. They've worked hard and prayed hard and lived through a lot of sadness. And they keep going." She was silent for a moment and said, "I'll be in my office if anyone needs me." She went toward her office and Andy started to stand, but Brenda put a hand on his shoulder, then went inside her office and closed the blinds.

Provenza caught Andy in the breakroom a little later. "How's it going with…" and he motioned toward Brenda's office.

"Not bad. Better than I thought it would go, really." He grinned.

"She seems, I don't know, more stable, or something," Provenza said.

"I think she is, but I think it's the counseling. God knows it isn't me," he laughed.

Provenza chuckled in return. "Yeah, I think a woman would have to get counseling if she's dating you."

Andy rolled his eyes and shoved the older man in the shoulder. "Speak for yourself, Casanova. You're the one who tried it four times. I've only been there twice."

"Coming up on three."

"What makes you think so?" Not that the idea hadn't occurred to Andy, but he wasn't sure if he really wanted to get into a third marriage.

Provenza shook his head. "You're just dense sometimes, Flynn. Downright dense. If you think Brenda Leigh Johnson is going to settle for long-term keeping company, you've got rocks in your head. Or bigger rocks than I thought, anyway. Oh, I thought I saw Emerick and the wicked witch looking mighty cozy at lunch today. Would you know anything about that?"

Andy raised his eyebrows. "Yeah. I know I'm glad she's found somebody besides me to occupy her time."

There was such relief in his voice, Provenza was suspicious. "Something happen I don't know about?"

"Something tried to happen, let's put it that way. But it didn't. And now that Jim is keeping her busy, I'm not worried about it."

"How long do you think that's gonna last?"

"A long while, with any luck. I think Jim has the knack of keeping her happy."

"Happy? The wicked witch? She's _never_ happy. Well, unless she's making somebody else miserable. Usually us."

"She was pretty much O.K. on Friday with the Jarman case."

"Only because it was Tao, she likes Tao, and that shooting was absolutely by the book. Nothing for her to get her claws into. If it had been you or me, she'd still be looking for a way to tack our hides to the wall. Well, maybe not you. But me or Sanchez or Gabriel, definitely." He looked around. "Chief seemed upset after Mrs. Jarman left. Is she all right?"

Andy shrugged. "I guess she will be. I haven't bothered her. When she needs to be by herself like that, just let her be."

"I guess so. But you keep an eye on her. After all, that's your job now, not Gabriel's."

"Never was Gabriel's. It's the division's job."

"Yeah. Tell me about it," Provenza answered, as he started back to his desk.

Andy gave Brenda a while to herself, but he finally knocked on her door.

"Come in," she said softly.

He stepped inside. "You all right?" he asked.

She nodded. "I will be. That one just got to me."

"I understand," Andy answered. He walked behind her and dropped a soft kiss on her cheek. "Come over to my place. I'll cook or something."

She nodded. "All right."

He left and Brenda thought about how wonderful it would be to go to Andy's home and have someone take care of her, for a change. She would leave early so she could feed Joel and get something special she'd been keeping for a while. She had made a trip to that consignment store in Beverly Hills and she had picked up something that she knew would definitely get Andy's attention. Not that she had any trouble getting it to begin with, but something different every now and again never hurt. And, after the day she had, she wanted to just forget the rest of the world.

* * *

><p>Andy came into his place with a couple of grocery bags. He knew Brenda was there; her car was in the drive, but he didn't see her anywhere.<p>

"Hey Brenda!" he called.

"Back here! Be there in a sec!" she said.

"O.K.," he answered and started putting groceries away.

"I see you made a trip to the supermarket," Brenda said.

"Yeah, I needed a few things," Andy answered. He was putting some items in the fridge and his back was to Brenda. When he closed the fridge door, he turned around and his mouth fell open.

Brenda wore a pink negligee. It was silk and had a lace-up bodice with cream lace trim across the top and tie ribbons for straps. The silk skirt fell to her ankles and was so sheer Andy could see the shadow of her body underneath it and he swallowed. Her hair fell in luscious waves past her shoulders and it was glossy in the light.

"I'm glad you haven't started cooking yet," she said. "I was thinking about dessert first."

Andy couldn't even say anything. His apartment was a typically spartan, drab, beige bachelor dwelling, and Brenda in that gown made the place look even more bland. She was color and fire and she came to him and grinned up at him. "Well, Lieutenant? You and that famous mouth of yours can't even come up with a comment? Hmph. I can think of a better use for that mouth, anyway."

"Um," Andy managed, as his hands went to loosen his tie.

Brenda batted them away. "Nosiree. I'm in charge of this right now."

"Yes ma'am," he croaked.

Brenda took his necktie in her hand and tugged on it. "Come along," she said.

Andy followed her down the hall, and nearly tripped over his own feet watching her hips and backside sway underneath that silk. He wasn't paying attention to anything else, for certain. She led him into the bedroom, where she had placed a few lit candles, for their soft light. She motioned for him to sit on the bed. He did and Brenda knelt to take his shoes and socks off. Then she loosened his tie and dropped it on the floor. She unbuttoned his shirt and got each cuff loosened, and slid the shirt off his shoulders. It hit the floor, too. His undershirt was next and when it was gone, Brenda ran her hands down his chest, clearly enjoying the feel of his chest hair under her fingertips. She knelt again and ran her tongue along the entire length of the scars on his side and stomach.

Andy twitched and sighed under her touch and put his hands on Brenda's back. She firmly set them aside. "I didn't give you permission to touch me, Lieutenant," she said. "I told you I'm in charge right now. Remember that."

He nodded. He wasn't altogether sure what was going on in that mind of hers, but he was willing to go along with the ride, just to see what was at the end of it.

Brenda stood and turned in front of him. "Do you like this?"

Andy just nodded again.

"Want me to take it off?"

"Whatever you want, babe," he answered.

"Whatever I want. That is _so_ tempting. Gives me all kinds of ideas. You know, it's downright amazing how – obedient – a man is when you approach him the right way."

Andy cleared his throat. "Lemme guess. You got some fur-lined cuffs, didn't you?"

Brenda's grin was positively evil, but she said, "Unfortunately, no. I forgot them. It would be a job getting them on you, anyway. I'd have to bamboozle you to do it. But I'm still thinking about how I could." She approached Andy again and unfastened his trousers and stroked his evident arousal. He closed his eyes and drew in a sharp breath. "Men," Brenda sighed, still teasing Andy with her fingers. "You know, I've always preferred _men_. Mature men. Boys always irritated the stew out of me. I know that's why I was silly enough to get into a relationship with Will Pope. He was a man. Only not nearly as mature as I thought. What a mistake that was." She leaned in to kiss him softly, still touching him. "Then there's you. You know, I did despise you at first. But somewhere along the way, you started messing with my mind. I thought you just irked me. Then one morning, you walked into the murder room in those faded jeans and it was all I could do to keep from dragging you into my office and having my way with you right there. Wonder if you'd have put up a fight?"

"Not if you weren't married," he answered.

"See, I always wondered about that. Then I had this unbelievably hot dream about you, and then I started really thinking about what it would be like to get you in bed. It was a physical ache, I wanted you so bad." She stood and stepped back. "And here you are. Now then. Why don't you untie these straps?" She leaned over and felt Andy's fingers brush her skin as he loosened the ribbons.

For his part, Andy really wasn't capable of coherent thought. He could only think about ripping that silk apart and getting inside Brenda's body. She must have sensed something because she took the hand at her shoulder and started kissing his fingertips. "Have I ever told you how much I love your hands?" she said. "They're wonderful." She followed the kisses up by taking one of his fingers into her mouth. Andy watched this in stunned fascination. If her intention was to turn him into a pile of goo, she was making a wonderful start on it. And when she gave the same treatment to each finger in turn, he knew he was going to collapse on that bed in a heap before anything happened. Every nerve ending in his body was firing on afterburners.

And after all that, Brenda said, "Stand up." What? Stand up? But she tugged on his hand and he managed to get to his feet. Then, Brenda slid his trousers over his hips and he stepped out of them. She ran her hands down over his rear and grinned up at him. "It's not fair that everything about your body is so good. Your chest is sexy, your back is sexy, you've got good-looking legs and even your backside is perfect."

"Too much gut," he answered, barely able to speak.

Brenda giggled at that, and caressed his stomach. "So you're a little fluffy right in there. All the better to cuddle with."

"Fluffy?" Andy wasn't sure he liked that adjective.

"We'll call it that." She pushed him back gently, so he sat back down on the bed. A push on his shoulders and he lay down, but propped himself on an elbow to see what she was going to do next.

What she did was start unlacing the bodice of that negligee. As more of her body was revealed as the laces came undone, Andy attempted a little humor. " I don't have any cash for your g-string for this performance."

Brenda raised her eyebrows. "Doesn't matter, since I'm not wearing a g-string." The silk fell away and he saw she was telling the truth.

He locked eyes with hers. "Come here then."

She cocked her head at him, hands on her hips. "You forget who's running this show or something?"

"Not hardly."

"Then you need to hush and stop telling me what to do."

"Yes ma'am," he answered. This was obviously her version of payback for the necktie incident. Well, he was glad to play along for right now, but he had ideas for payback of his own, maybe tonight, maybe later.

She approached the foot of the bed and grinned inwardly at the suspicion in those black eyes of his. "On your back, Lieutenant."

He lay flat, still looking warily at her. But all she did was lean over and start kissing the inside of one ankle, working her way up his leg, to the inside of his thigh. Then she hooked her fingers in the waist of his shorts and pulled them off. "Interested in a lap dance?" she said, climbing on top of him, and leaning over to kiss him.

"I'm always interested in a lap dance," he answered.

Brenda saw the look in his eyes change from wary to wicked and wondered what he was thinking. Something was going on, but he was cooperative enough. So, she took him in her hands and said, "Even this is just how I like it."

"Glad I could work that out for you," came his answer.

She laughed and said, "You're always so willing to accommodate me." She lifted her hips then, and pressed herself to him, feeling him inside her.

"You have no idea," he panted.

Brenda was moving, but it was achingly slow, and it was an exquisite torment for Andy. He lifted his hips to nudge her along, but she stopped altogether and said, "Stop that, Lieutenant. This speeds up when I say it does, and not a second before."

"Mm-hmm," he answered, thinking with the alpha male part of his brain.

Brenda continued her tiny movements, and Andy relaxed his body to throw her off, then she leaned forward and put her hands on his broad shoulders.

"Gotcha!" Andy exclaimed, wrapping his arms around her and rolling her over to her back, still inside her. He dropped his mouth to her neck and kissed his way up, chuckling the whole time.

"Andy!" she squealed. "You faked me out! You stinker!" She pummeled his back.

His grin was as wolfish as she'd ever seen it. "You should have remembered the handcuffs, huh, Brenda? Better make sure you've got me where you want me, next time," he growled, as he kissed her again, a hot, wet kiss that made her tremble, in spite of her annoyance with him. But that was Andy for you. She was irritated with him one minute, wanting his body the next. There might be a fine line between love and hate, but with Andy Flynn, the line between anger and lust was even thinner. His inner alpha male constantly challenged her alpha female, and the sparks were inevitable.

Her body softened underneath his and Brenda closed her eyes at the feel of them, skin-to-skin. Another opportunity would present itself, no doubt, but for now, why fight it? "Andy, you're the world's most infuriating male ever, but God I want you right now," she said.

He chuckled again. "Can't disappoint a lady," he answered and increased his movements. As he plunged into her delicious heat, he could feel her locking her legs around his waist and meeting him more than halfway. Everything in Brenda's body welcomed him inside and it was always so difficult to pace himself so she was able to enjoy it, too. But he managed to hold himself in check until he saw her face change with her impending climax and she screamed and pulled him closer. His mouth devoured hers again as he found his own release and they crashed together on the bed. He took them to their sides and kissed and caressed her skin as she came down from that high.

Give the man credit: he was incredible in bed, Brenda thought, even if he was utterly maddening. He could take her to a shattering climax, then was the tenderest lover ever as she lay in his arms afterward. He understood that deep need she had to be touched and stroked gently as they snuggled. How he understood it, she did not know, but he was the best. No other man had even come close to making her feel what Andy did.

"Can we leave dinner for a little later?" Andy whispered in her ear.

"Yeah."

"I love you," he murmured, nearly asleep.

"Oh, I love you, Andy," she said.

The room fell silent, except for their steady breathing.


	16. Chapter 16: Conflicting Points of View

**A/N:** Hope you like the latest. Thanks again to SF for some ideas on plot and such! Please, please, R&R!

_Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer."_

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><p><strong>Chapter 16: Conflicting Points of View<strong>

Brenda had gone home early with a headache. Andy had promised to stop by later on in the evening. The leftovers from a tropical storm that hit Baja California were moving up the coast, and it was raining buckets. Brenda stared morosely outside and then looked at the legal pad in her lap. She had thrown away five beginnings for a letter to Fritz already, and wasn't making much more progress on the sixth.

"Wonder if a glass of wine would help me loosen up?" she asked Joel, who sat beside her on the sofa. "I haven't had a single drink since just after Fritz died." So, she got up, opened a bottle of Merlot, and poured herself a glass. She sat back down with it and took a sip. The liquid traced its way down her throat and she smacked her lips. She had missed having her glass of wine. And this was such a good vintage. She started back on her assignment from Philippa and stopped. She just couldn't find the words she wanted to write. Before long, she had drained her glass and poured another one.

When Andy let himself into Brenda's house, he was assaulted by music loud enough to wake the dead. Brenda apparently had her stereo turned all the way up. She never did that, so Andy was immediately on his guard. Then, he heard Brenda's horribly unmelodic singing.

"Kiss me once!" she howled. "Kiss me twice! Come on pretty baby, kiss me deadly!"

Andy winced. Pop metal crap from the 80s. Must be on her satellite radio. He went into the den to see Brenda sprawled on the floor. She wore a tank top, sweat shorts and the two empty bottles of Merlot and again, the scattered yellow pages, told him everything. She was plastered. Well, first thing was to get that damn music turned off so he could hear himself think. "We were right. If it's too loud, you're too old," he muttered to himself as he hit the power button on her stereo. The silence was almost as startling as the loud music. He turned to Brenda.

"What happened?" she slurred. "That was my favorite song!"

"Aww Brenda," he said. "What have you done to yourself?"

"I'm drunk. Stinking, polluted, DRUNK!" she giggled.

Andy rolled his eyes. At least she was a happy drunk. "You sure are," he agreed.

"I was tired of trying to write that letter to Fritzie. Y'know? And I had one glass of Merlot, and that was sooooo good, I had another one. And then, another one!" She giggled again.

"Yeah. Been there, done that," Andy answered. So now what? He wasn't going to leave her in this condition. And from what she said, he was fairly sure that just attempting to write that letter had triggered this binge. She wasn't ready to do it, not yet. So, until an idea hit him, he'd just pick up the place a little. He got the wine bottles and trashed them and put the glass in the kitchen. He picked up the legal pad pages while Brenda sang happily.

"I've been workin' on the railroad, all the live long dayyy!" she warbled.

As much as he hated seeing her like this, Andy had to chuckle at her. She was a mess. She couldn't sing when she was sober, and drunk, well, it was awful. Of course, Andy couldn't carry a tune either, but he had never been this kind of drunk. He was either sappy or mean. Usually mean. Never a singer. Then, he noticed she kept rubbing at the back of her head.

"What's the matter, babe? Did you hit your head?" Andy was concerned. He knelt beside her. "Come on hon, let me see it." He finally got her to cooperate and he looked at the back of her head. She had a gash and her hair was matted with blood around it. Of course, Andy knew head wounds always bled more than any other kind, even for one that was fairly superficial, but he wasn't sure how bad this was. He looked at the coffee table and saw a little clump of hair. She must have fallen and smacked her head on the way down. Ouch. Well, at least with all the wine, she wasn't hurting that much. He took his handkerchief and dabbed at the wound. It was still oozing blood. Andy had seen enough of this in his career that he was thinking she'd need a couple of stitches. And that meant a trip to the ER with her in this condition. Oh, joy.

Andy chuckled ruefully. What goes around comes around, he thought. His first wife had taken him in once or twice after he had been in a bar fight and gotten bashed in the head, or something similar.

"Brenda, sweetheart, your head is still bleeding. I need to take you to the hospital, all right? Will you go with me?"

"I'll go anywhere with you Andy. You know that!" She waved an arm in the air.

He shook his head and looked around. He found a pair of flip-flops and slipped them on her feet, then located her purse and made sure her service weapon wasn't inside. It wasn't, so he put the purse by the door. He thought about location for a moment. USC was probably the closest ER. He didn't want to call an ambulance because once her address hit the scanner channels, they would be covered up with uniforms and Andy did not want anyone else to see her like this. However, he was in his department car, and could run with lights and siren, if necessary. He didn't think he would need to since it was later in the evening, but he had the option. He could also contact the USC ER directly so they could be waiting.

Having decided on a plan, he gently picked Brenda up and grabbing her purse, took her to his car. He ran with her through the rain, and put her in the back seat so she could lie down. Once they were on the way, he got his hand radio and contacted the ER on the emergency frequency.

"USC ER. Do you copy?"

"We copy. What is your emergency?" came the answer.

"Lieutenant Flynn, LAPD. I have a medical emergency. I have a female, age 47, who has hit her head. She has an open wound and it's oozing blood. I'm on my way to your ER. ETA is about four minutes."

"We copy, Lieutenant. We'll be waiting."

"LAPD out," Andy answered.

As he drove, Brenda chattered and sang happily from the back seat. At least she wasn't trying to help him drive, or being combative.

A nurse met them at the door to the ER and she and Andy got Brenda into a treatment room. "In case you haven't noticed, she's pretty drunk."

"Lieutenant, how did this happen?" the nurse asked, looking at Andy suspiciously.

"I'm not really sure. Ms. Johnson and I are dating and I got to her house and found her on the floor, drunk. I didn't think she was injured until she started rubbing the back of her head. I looked at the wound and it was still bleeding, plus since it was a blow to the head, I was worried about concussion."

"Mmm-hmm," the nurse answered. She apparently didn't believe Andy's story. She looked Brenda over, and Andy knew she was searching for bruising or some signs of domestic violence. Finding nothing but the gash in Brenda's head, she gave Andy another stern look. "Lieutenant, you're a big man and this is well within your capability. Did you have anything to do with this?"

Andy's eyes widened in shock. "Are you kidding me? Hell no, I didn't do this to her! I'd never hurt her!"

His words penetrated the alcohol-induced fog wrapped around Brenda's brain and she tugged on the nurse's jacket sleeve. "He didn't do this! I did it. I got drunk as a skunk and fell down. He wasn't even there. So don't be sayin' nothin' like that about my Andy, you hear me?"

The nurse shook her head and said, "The doctor will be in to see her shortly. I'm sure he'll want an X-ray to check for a concussion."

Andy nodded and as the woman left the room, he went to Brenda. "You got yourself into trouble this time, Chief," he said softly.

"You're here," she replied, her eyes wide and liquid as she looked at him. "If you're here, I'll be just fine." In her condition, her accent was thicker than honey and it came out sounding more like "Aahhlll be jes' fiiiine," and he had to laugh just a little. He knew the morning would be hell. If she had a concussion, she'd have a monstrous headache, in addition to what was going to be a memorable hangover. He kissed her forehead and took her hand while they waited on the doctor.

When he finally came in, he introduced himself and looked at Brenda. "Ms. Johnson, can you tell me what happened?"

"Got drunk. Fell down and hit my head. End of story," she answered, with a wave of her hand.

"She's still pretty trashed, doctor," Andy said.

"I can see that," he said dryly. He turned to Andy. "And you are who to her...?"

"Boyfriend," he answered, although it bothered him to call himself a "boyfriend" at his age. "I got there when I told her I'd be there and found her like this."

The doctor performed the same exam the nurse had. Andy was starting to feel like the lowest piece of crap on earth because he knew they thought he did this to her. He wondered if he should make a pre-emptive call to Sharon, in case they decided this was abuse. He sighed. "Doctor, I didn't do this to her, O.K.? I'm a cop. I know you see domestic cases all the time, but this isn't one."

"She needs an X-ray to check for a concussion," was all the doctor said.

"Certainly," Andy answered. He was doing his best to appear as non-threatening as possible. He didn't want to give them a reason to be even more suspicious.

The tech appeared and did the X-ray, and said, "Dr. Kennemer also wants a CT scan, so I'll be taking her up to have that done. We'll be back shortly."

"Absolutely." He squeezed Brenda's hand before she was wheeled out.

Andy knew this was going to take a while, so he stepped outside and took out his phone and dialed Sharon's cell. She answered on the second ring.

"Sharon? Andy. I'm at the USC ER with Brenda. We may have a situation."

"What on earth is going on, Andy?" Sharon answered.

"I went to Brenda's place. She was drunk off her ass and had fallen and hit her head. She's O.K., except for still being drunk, but she's got a gash on her head where she hit the coffee table, and the people are looking at me like I'm the number one suspect. I brought her in because I didn't want it broadcast on the scanner."

"Oh my God," Sharon returned. "Unreal. Well, I'm glad you called me first. Jim's with me. Do you mind if he comes too?"

"No, of course not. I just need some back-up here before they start filing DV reports on me."

"Really. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thanks, Sharon. I owe you a big one for this. And bring your bitch armor. With these people, you're gonna need it."

Sharon chuckled. "Not necessary. I've got a badge. And you introduced me to Jim. We'll call it even."

"It's a deal," Andy said, relieved. It was going to take more than a suspicious nurse and doctor to rattle Sharon Raydor.

She and Jim arrived about five minutes before Brenda got back from the CT lab. "How's Brenda?" Sharon asked, giving Andy a hug.

"O.K., as far as I know. They're doing a CT scan on her and did an X-ray before that, to check for a concussion."

Sharon nodded. "All right. What did you tell them?"

"Same thing I told you. I walked in and found her like that, saw her head wound and brought her in."

"Fine. Don't say anything else. I'll handle the rest of this," Sharon said.

"You got it," Andy answered.

Jim went to his friend. "God, Andy, I hate this. I mean, I know why they're suspicious, but you? Never."

"Thanks, Jim. I appreciate it," he replied.

The tech brought Brenda back to the treatment room and Andy went to her. "How you feeling?"

"Oh, fine," she answered. She looked over and saw Sharon. "What is that woman doing here?" She looked over at Sharon. "You better not be thinkin' Andy did this!"

Andy shook his head. Apparently, the only ingredient necessary to make Brenda a fighting drunk was Sharon's presence. He took Brenda's hand. "No, she's here to make sure they don't think that about me."

"Well, all right then," Brenda harrumphed, then she spotted Jim. "Hi there, Lieutenant Emerick!" she chirped and waved. "Now, aren't you the sweetest thing for coming to see about me?"

Andy and Jim looked at each other and at the indignation on Sharon's face and laughed. "She's drunk off her ass. I told you."

"Yeah, and drunks don't lie, they say," Sharon returned sourly.

Andy snickered. "Oh yes they do. Like cheap rugs. Take it from one who knows."

Jim held up a restraining hand and went to Brenda's side. "So glad you weren't seriously injured, Chief," he said, as civilly as if they were at high tea. Brenda just giggled. Andy shook his head. There was something to be said for that genteel British manner.

The doctor reappeared, finally, and Andy introduced his colleagues.

"Doctor, I have to ask, are you considering filing a domestic violence report against Lieutenant Flynn?" Sharon's tone had dropped into that chilly department monotone.

"Well, Captain, there is strong evidence to suggest Ms. Johnson's injuries are a result of domestic violence."

"Is that so? Other than the gash on her head, what evidence did you collect to make you draw that conclusion?"

"Well, I hear this story all the time. In nearly every case, it's domestic in nature."

"I see. So you're going on past history with people who have no connection with this couple?"

"I'm going on my experience as a physician," he snapped.

"Oh, well, far be it from me to question a physician," Sharon purred. "So show me the physical evidence, other than the head wound."

"She's extremely intoxicated," the doctor began.

"And an adult woman isn't capable of drinking too much all by herself? That's a surprise. The rehab centers are full of patients who did just that. What else? Did you find any marks or bruises that suggest recent or past abuse, and not consistent with a fall?"

"Not in my initial examination, no," he said, clearly disgusted.

"That's fine, then. Thank you. We'll step out so you can discuss the results of Ms. Johnson's tests with her and her partner." Sharon swept out of the room, followed by Jim, who gave Andy a grin and a wink.

The doctor scowled after them, then flipped to a page in Brenda's chart. "The X-ray and CT confirm a mild concussion, and the wound will need to be sutured. I'll release her, but someone will need to stay with her tonight and wake her up every two hours. Because of her intoxicated state, this may be difficult, but it needs to be done." He glared at Andy. "I don't really want to see you in my ER again, Lieutenant."

"So I'm guilty until proven innocent, huh?" Andy shook his head. "Don't worry. I won't be back if I have anything to say about it." He understood, yes, but when there was no hard evidence to condemn him... He glowered at the doctor's back as he left the room. A resident returned shortly to suture the gash and to give Andy instructions about caring for her through the night.

It was nearly midnight when Andy got Brenda home, and Sharon and Jim followed, to see if they could help him with her. Sharon called for pizza, since none of them had a chance to eat. By the time they were home, the alcohol was wearing off and Brenda's headache had started.

Andy got Brenda settled on the sofa and gave her some water and acetaminophen, since the doctor had said that was what she could have for pain. "I feel a little sick to my stomach," she said.

"Well, you took a pretty good knock on your head, and the booze is wearing off," Andy said. "Let's see what I can do." He looked around. "How about some ginger ale and soda crackers? Maybe that will help," he said. He brought the soda and crackers to her.

She looked up at him. "Andy, I am so sorry. I can't believe I did that." She looked over at Sharon. "And I'm sorry for yelling at you in the ER. Thank you for coming and helping Andy. You didn't have to."

"You're welcome, Brenda. I'm glad I could help."

As Sharon and Jim left, Andy said, "Since I'll probably be up and down most of the night, I doubt I'll be in tomorrow unless something blows up, and obviously, the Chief won't be. Tell Provenza for me, would you, Jim?"

"Be glad to. And I'll say Brenda just fell and hit her head."

"That works. Thanks again, you two. You don't know how much I appreciate it."

Sharon touched Andy's arm. "You're welcome, Andy. I certainly wasn't going to let you get picked up for domestic violence – you know that."

"I know, but I still appreciate it."

Sharon smiled at him and she and Jim left.

Andy returned to the den. Brenda was touching the back of her head. "Three stitches, Brenda," he said.

"Oh, for heaven's sake. I'm just more trouble than I'm worth, these days." She sat back on the sofa.

Andy sat at one end of the sofa and put Brenda's feet in his lap. "Nah. You didn't start a fight in a bar. _That's_ being more trouble than you're worth."

"You're sweet Andy, but I'm really ashamed of myself. And those awful people thinking you did this to me! That's awful!"

"Brenda, we're cops. You know how this kind of thing looks. We've both worked cases just like this one that were domestic."

"Oh, I know it, but it still just irks me that they thought something like that about you. It's just not right. No telling how long I'd have laid there if it hadn't been for you!"'

"Well, no harm done. I'd love to have a picture of the expression on that doctor's face when Sharon started in on him, though. I don't think he knew what hit him." Andy chuckled at the memory.

Brenda grinned. "Nice to know she's good for something once in a while."

Andy rolled his eyes. "Lay off Sharon, willya? She's all right."

"Well, she's certainly improved now that she has somebody besides you to moon over. Lord, but my head hurts," Brenda said.

"Well, let's get you to bed, then. Put your arms around my neck." Andy leaned over Brenda.

"I can walk!"

"I'm not taking any chances of you getting dizzy and cracking your skull open again. So come on and cooperate with me, how about it?"

Brenda looked at Andy. He had that "don't-give-me-any-lip" expression. So, she put her arms around his neck and he picked her up from the sofa. When he sat her on the bed, she rubbed her head. "You know, I think you carrying me was a good idea. I might have gotten dizzy."

"Once in a while, I know what I'm talking about."

"I think we've had this conversation," Brenda said.

"Yeah. Probably. So you lie down and get comfortable. Want another pillow or anything?"

"I think so, if you don't mind getting one for me."

"Sure." Andy went to the hall closet and came back with a pillow. He supported Brenda's head and shoulders under his arm and slipped the pillow underneath. "Is that better?"

"Yeah, but I don't think you'll have to wake me up every two hours. I doubt I can sleep with this pain."

"The Tylenol hasn't had time to work, yet. Hopefully, it will kick in soon."

"Oh, I hope it does."

"Let me go give your cat some food and I'll be in here. I'm a little tired, too."

"Busy day?" Brenda cracked.

"Ehh, you know. The usual." He grinned and left the room. When he came back in, he shucked his trousers and shirt and slipped into bed beside Brenda, trying not to jar her. "I've got the alarm on my cell set for two hours from now, O.K.?"

"O.K. Andy, thank you for taking care of me. You're almost as good at it as my mama." She closed her eyes and sighed.

"You're welcome, babe. I'm just glad it wasn't any worse." Andy wasn't going to lecture Brenda in this condition. He'd wait until she felt better.

* * *

><p>When Brenda got back to the office, fortunately, things were still fairly quiet. RobberyHomicide had been busy, but things were a little slow in Major Crimes. Toward mid-morning, a man came in through the murder room and knocked on Brenda's door. Andy looked up at him. It was that jerk of an ER doctor! What was he doing here? Andy glared at him as Brenda opened her door and let the man into her office.

Brenda looked at the man. "I'm Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson. What can I do for you?" she asked. The man looked familiar, but she couldn't quite place him.

"I'm Dr. George Kennemer. I was looking for Lieutenant Andy Flynn's supervisor."

"I'm his supervisor," Brenda said, and it all came back to her. She narrowed her eyes at the man.

"I see. I didn't know you were also my patient two nights ago until just now."

"Small world, isn't it?" Brenda drawled. "So, why did you need to see Lieutenant Flynn's supervisor, or do I even need to ask?"

"Well Chief, I didn't feel I followed up on the circumstances surrounding your injury as I should have."

"Is that so? And what circumstances would those be? The ones that led you to believe this cut on my head was domestic violence?" Brenda's tone was ice.

"It's my duty to report what I feel were suspicious circumstances."

"I understand that. Probably better than you realize. But other than my head injury, why would you think this was domestic?"

"Your obvious, um, intoxication, lack of judgment…" The man's voice trailed off at Brenda's glare.

"Dr. Kennemer, I appreciate your due diligence. However, what Lieutenant Flynn told you was the truth. I got drunk, started dancing around the den, fell and hit my head. He found me some little while later. I called in sick to work with a sinus headache and the Lieutenant was checking on me after he got off work. Good thing, since I don't know how long I'd have been there if he hadn't come by."

"I still have my suspicions. I'm sorry, but I do."

At that point, Brenda's temper snapped. "To hell with your suspicions!" she spat. "As I've said many times: Andy Flynn is a lot of things, but a woman-beater isn't one of them. My husband was murdered in cold blood a little over two months ago, and Andy has been there for me the whole time. _I_ opened those wine bottles, _I_ drank the stuff and _I_ fell on the floor. The only help I had was from the booze! I'm in counseling to deal with these issues, but I slipped, literally and figuratively, two nights ago. Now, you nasty little man, I'll thank you to leave my office and my murder room and take your 'suspicions' with you!" Brenda stood and pointed to the door.

Andy was standing nearby, even as she ordered the doctor out, and he opened the door. "Does he need an escort out, Chief?" Andy asked.

"Not unless he decides not to leave on his own," she answered.

The doctor left under Andy's cold gaze, and the scowls of everyone in the murder room. They didn't know Brenda had been drunk, but they did know the doctor thought Andy had something to do with it.

"Evil little WART!" Brenda said, smacking her hand on her desk. "Well, I fixed his little red wagon, but good. He won't be back." She looked at Andy. "I know. It never would have happened if I'd stayed out of the bottle. Point taken."

"I didn't say a word, Chief," Andy answered.

"You didn't have to. Maybe no one has ever mentioned it to you, but your eyes say everything. You rascal, you. Get outta here."

He grinned at her – the grin that made her knees weak. "Sure, Chief," he answered, and with a sexy wink, left the room.

Brenda sat down and fumbled in the candy drawer. If she couldn't have Andy right then, chocolate was a necessity. Half a bag of dark chocolate M&Ms later, she was feeling better about the world. She looked at the real estate magazine on her desk. She still wanted another house, this time what _she_ wanted. "I want a real yard so I can have some flowers, and a front porch," she muttered. She had a thought and pecked out an internet search on her computer. "Crepe myrtles. I want a yard full," she said, looking at sites selling the flowering trees so popular in the South. "I want red, pink, purple and lavender, and I want daylilies, too." She looked back to the real estate magazine. There was a place listed that looked wonderful. School districts were not an issue, and the house looked lovely, except maybe it needed a little tender loving care. She was going to call the agent and schedule an appointment to see it, today, if possible.

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><p>"Ms. Johnson, an elderly lady owned this house, so it hasn't been kept up as well as most of my listings, but with a little work, I think it would be a real showplace," the realtor said.<p>

Brenda looked around. The yard was a tad overgrown, and the whole house needed paint inside and out. But, she knew from experience that just a fresh coat of paint could make a house look almost like it had been remodeled.

Inside, she examined the rooms. The kitchen was large. She smiled. Andy would like that. A screened-in back porch was an asset, as well. Joel could enjoy the outdoors a little there. The master bedroom had a walk-in closet that the agent said had been added later, along with the laundry room off the back porch. The house was older, and featured high ceilings and hardwood floors, which Brenda loved. She could see oriental rugs in the living room. And it had a nice front porch, just right for a swing.

"Please get a quote for me, if you don't mind, Ms. Carr."

"I'll be glad to. And what about your current residence?"

"I'm thinking of renting it out. Do you know of any reputable rental agencies who could handle that for me?"

The woman nodded. "As a matter of fact, I do. Let me get you one of their cards. I know your place is in a desirable neighborhood, so you should almost be able to set your own rent." The realtor looked in her briefcase. "Here we are. Give this agency a call and they can help you with everything you need, from getting it ready to rent to screening tenants, to collecting rent. My clients have always been happy with them."

"Thank you so much," Brenda answered. "I need to go, but when you get that quote, please call me."

"I will, and thank you," Ms. Carr replied.

As Brenda drove back to the office, she pondered this move. She needed to talk to Philippa about it, and most of all, Andy. He had been non-committal the first time she raised the subject, but at that point, they hadn't been seeing each other very long. As far as Brenda was concerned, her relationship with Andy was long-term, and if he felt the same way, why not make it permanent? But she knew how leery of marriage he was. And for reasons she couldn't quite understand, Brenda was not nearly so hesitant about committing to Andy as she was to Fritz. In fact, if Andy suggested going to the courthouse tomorrow and making it legal, she would jump at the opportunity.

"Andy, I found a house I think I really like," she told him that evening.

He thought about it. "Well, if you're sure that's something you want to do…"

"It is. I really think it is. The house does need a little work, but it's really what I wanted when I bought this one. It's older, with a yard and big front porch. I was just thinking how nice it would be to have flowers in the yard."

"Mentioned it to Philippa, yet?"

"No, I'm going to tell her this weekend at our next session." Brenda sighed. "I've got a lot to tell her."

"Yeah, no kidding."

"I don't suppose you'd consider going with me this time, would you?"

Andy's eyes widened. "Me? She doesn't like me. Have to say the feeling is mutual. I'm glad she's helping you, but she's not my idea of having a pleasant Saturday morning."

"We've been over this, Andy. She does like you. A lot. Can I give her your cell so she can at least call you if she wants to?"

Andy's sigh was resigned. "Yeah, go ahead. If she's helping you and talking to me gets her to that point, then all right."

"Thank you, sweetheart." She leaned against him as they sat on the sofa. "I want to say again how sorry I am about the other night. I never want to do that again."

"And I don't want you to. I'll do whatever I can to support you in staying out of that Merlot bottle."

"I know you will." She was silent for a moment. "Andy, if I buy that house, would you consider moving in with me?"

"Consider or commit to doing it?"

"Consider. I mean, we're with each other most of the time one place or another. It makes sense." Brenda's tone was anxious and Andy could hear it.

He cuddled her to his side. "I will think about it. I don't want you rushing into anything, though. If you really want to move, then focus on buying the house and getting the work done. Once that happens, we can talk about this again. Give us both more time to think about it."

"I really don't have to think about it, but I know you do," Brenda answered. He hadn't said no. That's what was important. He hadn't said no.

* * *

><p>"He says you don't like him. I've told him he's wrong, but he doesn't believe me," Brenda told Philippa.<p>

Philippa laughed a little ruefully. "Whew. Andy's a tough nut to crack, once he sets his mind to something, isn't he?"

Brenda grinned. "You have no idea. It does get him into trouble, occasionally. But I'm a fine one to talk. I'm about as bad."

"What did he say about your trip to the ER the other night?"

"Not as much as I thought he would. About all he said was, 'You know it was stupid to even open the bottle, right?' And I agreed. I apologized to him and thanked him for taking care of me. He's not big on beating a dead horse, so he said that and that was the end of it."

Philippa nodded. "He's such an enigma. There's the version the rest of the world sees: the tough Jersey cop. Then, there's the guy who loves you. Since he made lieutenant, I'm assuming he's good at his job, but what's he _like_ on the job?"

"Fearless," Brenda said with a smile. "Absolutely fearless. Not stupid, and usually not reckless, but completely without fear. He charges into a situation and he's completely in the moment. When we tried to collar the mall shooter, this guy had a semi-automatic weapon and pipe bombs. Andy obviously used the available cover to dodge the guy's gunfire, but he wasn't afraid. No hesitation. I mean, he tracked Lamar Tate through the park when Fritz was killed. That's Andy all over. He never tries to be the hero or anything, but when you need someone to take that difficult shot, it's Andy you want. He doesn't try to reason it out. He acts on training and instinct in those situations. I took the shot when we got the guy with the sarin bombs, but Andy raked me over the coals about it. He was ready to take it. He and Julio Sanchez — neither of them has a fear gene, as far as I can tell."

"I think I said once that Andy Flynn's the guy you want walking down a dark alley with you."

"Oh, no doubt. And since that last scrape he got into with Provenza, he's sworn off letting that wily old polecat talk him into anything. Which is good."

"So about selling the house, having Andy move in. These are all major life decisions, Brenda. I know you haven't come completely to terms with Fritz' death. This whole Merlot incident tells me that. Until you do, it's not fair to Andy to ask him to get into all these changes with you. It's imperative you get to grips with what happened to Fritz. You've got to get some of that out. Tell you what. Why don't you stay here and write the letter this afternoon? No distractions and you're in a safe environment."

Brenda furrowed her brow. "Philippa, I just don't know that I'm ready to do it."

The therapist nodded. "Well, let's try this, then. Let's do it through roleplay and see if you can articulate it verbally. I'll be Fritz. Close your eyes and we'll try it. If it starts becoming too upsetting, we can stop, but these are things you needed to say. So start it."

Brenda bit her lip. Philippa was not going to let this go. "O.K." She closed her eyes. "Fritz, I have something I need to tell you."

"What's that, Brenda?" Philippa said, as Fritz.

"It has to have occurred to you that things aren't the same between us anymore."

"Why do you say that?"

"We don't talk. We fight. We argue. We make up. Things are all right for a little while, then it starts again. This is not how a good marriage works."

"If your job didn't always come first, maybe we could work it out."

"My job sometimes comes first because it's easier to stay there than it is to be home when we're fighting. I hate it when we fight, Fritz."

"I hate it too, but you've got to come home occasionally for us to be able to work it out."

"When I'm home, I don't want to spoil it by fighting."

"That's what we do anyway."

"I know, and I told you. I hate it. I think we need some time apart. Maybe a trial separation."

"I don't want a separation."

"I'm sorry Fritz." Brenda was on the verge of tears. This was a little too real. "I'm really sorry. But my feelings have changed."

"Is there someone else? Have you met someone else?"

"Yes, I've met someone else. But we're not seeing each other. We're not sneaking around behind your back. I only see him at work."

"It's Will Pope, isn't it?"

"No, Fritz. It's not. It's Andy Flynn."

"Flynn! You must be kidding me!"

Brenda was crying now. Philippa was good at this. "No, I'm not kidding you. He's good to me, Fritz, and doesn't expect what I can't give. I've disappointed you in so many ways. You wanted a family and a wife who's there for you all the time. I can't do that. I just can't."

"But you can be there for Flynn."

"He's there for _me_! When you're not! Oh, Fritzie, I'm so sorry! Please don't do this. Please. I don't hate you. I care about you. But you don't love me anymore, not like you used to, and we both know it!" Brenda had her head in her hands, sobbing.

Philippa stood and handed Brenda the box of tissues. "It's O.K., Brenda. Cry it out," she said.

When Brenda finally calmed down, Philippa said, "Now you can really start to heal, I think. It wasn't pleasant, but it had to be done."

"I guess so," Brenda answered.

"So what are your feelings now? What do you want to do? First impulse."

"Go find Andy so he can hold me," she replied.

"Have you always needed this kind of emotional support? Or is this just Andy?"

Brenda thought about it. "Really, just Andy. I mean, Fritzie supported me, held me when I needed him, but I didn't just ache for him like I do Andy."

"Ache for him? Wow. Brenda, that's a deep attachment."

She nodded. "I've never felt about anybody like I do about him. Ever."

"That's pretty obvious."

* * *

><p>"I'm just tired, Andy. It was a tough session today with Philippa. I went over a lot of stuff that I've been avoiding. Like what I needed to tell Fritz."<p>

"It's O.K. Do you want to be by yourself tonight?" he asked.

"No. I really need you, if you want to be here."

Brenda heard Andy's chuckle over the phone. "I always want to be there. See you in a little while."

When Andy got to Brenda's house, he thought she might have gone to bed. The house was dark. He quietly let himself in, but saw Brenda on the sofa, Joel next to her, only a single lamp burning.

"Brenda? Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yeah," came her quiet reply.

He went to her and sat down. She immediately cuddled to him, but didn't say a word. After several minutes, Andy said, "Are you sure you're all right? You haven't said a thing."

"I don't feel like talking. I did enough of it today."

"Fair enough," he answered. "Have you eaten?"

"Sandwich."

"O.K. Long as you ate something."

"I did."

Andy stretched out on the sofa and folded Brenda into his arms. As always, the soft sounds of his breathing, the warmth of his body calmed Brenda. She didn't know why, except that perhaps they meant life and comfort and stability. Andy had wondered when it would really hit her about Fritz. He knew as well as Philippa did that this was work Brenda needed to do, and he knew it was going to be a lot harder than Brenda thought it would be. It was going to take her a while to work through all this. He knew from the experience of telling his sponsor about his dad. It had been the first time he'd ever opened up about that subject, and the process left him exhausted and faintly nauseated. He imagined Brenda felt much the same way.

Andy had drifted his hand down Brenda's side and had taken her hand and was stroking it. She sighed and turned to face him. "Andy, it hasn't been a very good day."

He kissed her forehead. "I know."

"I'd really love some wine to dull the memory."

"I understand," he said softly.

"Maybe there's one way to blot out the day," she answered, bringing his mouth to hers.

Andy kissed her softly for a moment, then broke it and held her face in his hands. "One way of not dealing with something is as bad as any other."

"At least you get something out of this way of not dealing with it."

He grinned at her. "No doubt, but I'm not taking advantage of you like that."

"You're not taking advantage of me. It's my idea."

"Remember that enabling thing? I don't do it."

"It's not enabling. It's – affirming life."

Andy kissed her again. "You've got an answer for everything."

"Wouldn't be much good at my job if I didn't," she replied. "Really, Andy, I just want you to make love to me, because I love you, O.K.? Anything wrong with that?"

"No," he said. "But I still think there's more than just because you love me in this. It takes some work and time to process what you've been through. Pushing stuff out of the way as soon as it comes up isn't healthy."

Brenda's face turned mutinous and she pounded a fist on Andy's chest. "Philippa was right. You _do_ think you're my sponsor!"

Andy's eyes widened. Where had this come from? "She said that?"

Brenda looked into Andy's face. She couldn't lie to him. "Well, what she said was you'd been in AA so long that it just sort of spilled over into your personal relationships."

"Maybe so. I honestly thought I've been trying to support you in getting through this stuff, but if that's not what you want..." his voice trailed off.

Brenda could tell he was a little hurt, but the frustration of having to think about what she didn't want to think about, rather than using Andy to get it out of her mind, was making her irritable. She didn't want to hurt him, but doggone it, this wasn't how she wanted this evening to turn out. "Oh, why don't you just go on home?"

"Go home? Are you serious? Why?"

Brenda rolled her eyes. "Well, you and I obviously had different ideas about what we wanted tonight. So you might as well go on home."

Now that ticked Andy off. Still, he took a deep breath. He sat up and faced Brenda on the sofa. "So you're pissed at me because I didn't want to take advantage of you by having sex with you?"

Brenda didn't answer. Neither would she meet his eyes. Looking into his eyes was dangerous.

"Answer me, Brenda! First, you say I think I'm your sponsor. Then, you all but come right out and tell me that you just wanted me for sex tonight. I don't mind saying, that hurts. And it's not right for you to screw around with my feelings like that."

"Oh, what feelings? I'm just a project for you."

Andy's face was bleak. "That is a hell of a thing to say to me, Brenda. A hell of a thing. You're right. I do need to just go home." He stood and put his jacket on. As he got to the door, he turned. "You'd better decide what you want, Brenda," he said.

Hearing Fritz's words come out of Andy's mouth shocked her to the core. She jumped up and ran to Andy. "Andy! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry. Please, forgive me! I shouldn't have said that. It was so childish. Please forgive me." She flung her arms around him and buried her face in his jacket.

He embraced her briefly, but then stepped back. "Apology accepted. But Brenda, you can't keep lashing out at me like this for no reason. I'll put up with a lot, but I told you verbal abuse isn't on the list. I don't do that to you. You're not doing it to me. Good night. I'll see you in the morning."

"You're not going to stay?" Her face fell.

"I can't right now. I'm just too angry. I need to call my sponsor."

"But Andy, I love you!"

He sighed, and his eyes were soft. He touched her face. "I love you too, Brenda. But I have to take care of myself right now, and that means getting in touch with my sponsor. Maybe you need to call Philippa. I'll see you tomorrow." He kissed her forehead and was gone.

Brenda flung herself on the sofa and cried, wondering how she always managed to make a complete mess out of every relationship she'd ever had.

Andy drove to his sponsor's apartment. He needed to talk to him face-to-face. He was not going to allow Brenda to treat him like a doormat. He did love her. God help him, but he did. But she wasn't going to walk all over him just because... He wasn't going to let her.


	17. Chapter 17: Tight Rope

**A/N:** Warning: this is a long chapter. But hey, where could I have cut it? LOL. Hope you enjoy the adventure and the goodness ;). Please, please R&R. I admit it: reviews are writer's crack, O.K.? Gotta have 'em! LOL.

_Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer."_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 17: Tight Rope<strong>

Andy winced as he nicked his chin for the third time that morning. He'd forgotten to buy razors and this one was almost useless. He stuck a fragment of tissue on to stop the bleeding and railed at his Italian grandfather for passing down his heavy beard. If he had his Grandfather Flynn's beard, he might have to shave every three days instead of daily.

Disgusted, and with his face only half shaved, he rummaged in the vanity drawers for a new razor. He came up with one of those cheap disposables, but it was new and at least good for one shave. He had just started down the right side of his face when his cell rang. The razor slipped and he winced again. Four nicks. Another piece of tissue on the wound and cursing fluently, he went into the bedroom and grabbed the phone. "Flynn," he growled into it, without looking at the number.

"Andy?" It was Brenda.

This morning, Andy just wasn't in the mood to deal with her. He had spent a mostly sleepless night, fuming about their argument the night before. He had hashed out the issue with his sponsor who, for a change, actually took his side and said he acted in a healthy way. But he still wanted to wring Brenda's neck, or at least spank her. The last time Andy Flynn had hit a female, he was nine years old and Rosemarie Ascuto had spit on him. So he hit her. But the urge to turn Brenda over his knee was almost overwhelming. _"Deep breath,"_ he told himself and said, "Morning, Brenda."

Brenda grimaced. Andy did not sound happy. For her part, she was miserable and wracked with guilt over her actions the night before. But Andy? He sounded totally pissed off. She had worked with him long enough to hear it in his voice, even when he wasn't yelling. "I'm sorry for calling so early, but I was wondering if you'd like to go to breakfast with me." She made herself sound as conciliatory as possible, which truly wasn't difficult.

Andy rolled his eyes and shook his head. He knew she was trying to make up with him, which was good, but he really just wanted to finish shaving, hopefully without any more bloodshed, dress, get a cup of coffee and go to work. "I would, but I'm running late this morning." Which was no lie. It had taken him three times as long to shave as it normally did.

"Oh." She sounded really let down. "I understand. Then lunch, maybe?"

Andy sighed as silently as he could. "All right. Lunch. I'll see you in a little while."

"O.K. Andy. I'll see you." She hung up and felt like crying again. She had really stepped in it, this time. She needed to talk to Philippa about her knack for starting arguments, when she had told Andy she didn't want that kind of relationship.

Andy threw his phone on the bed with a snort. He really just wanted to go somewhere and _not_ see Brenda for a couple of days. He went into the bathroom and finally finished shaving without further incident. He dressed and went to the kitchen and looked at the Dodgers' schedule on the fridge. They were in San Diego this weekend. That actually sounded like a good idea. Not like they'd be sold out of tickets, with the Dodgers in the basement. Andy could think of worse things than spending an afternoon in San Diego, watching baseball – even if the chances were good he'd be watching the Dodgers get their tails kicked. He could leave word with Provenza if they caught a case. It was still a couple of days to the weekend, but if things didn't improve where Brenda was concerned, it was a little time away, so he could get his head together.

When he got to work, Sanchez looked at him and said, "Hey Flynn, you get in a fight with a chainsaw or something?"

Andy rolled his eyes. "Hilarious, Julio," he said. "You're such a trip."

"Hey, I do what I can," Julio smirked.

"How's Lisa feeling, Mike?" Andy asked.

Tao smiled at him. "Oh, mostly back to normal. She has to be a little more careful with her physical activity until her lung recovers, but she's much better."

"Glad to hear it. What about the kids?"

Tao shrugged. "You know, they're a lot more resilient than we give them credit for being. They're good. Zoe was thrilled to see you at the hospital. You and the Chief need to come for dinner sometime. Zoe would be over the moon to have her buddy all to herself for the evening. I wouldn't be able to get her out of your lap with a block and tackle." He laughed.

Andy grinned in response. "You've got good kids, Mike."

"Thanks, Andy." Tao wondered about Andy's kids. He rarely talked about them. Mike thought that was a shame. Andy had been sober nearly 15 years, but apparently, that wasn't enough for his ex-wife.

Brenda arrived. She had that "look" on her face – the one that boded ill for anyone who even looked like they wanted to argue with her.

Everyone greeted her and she turned to look at the crew. "You know, I don't think we get paid to stand around and flap our gums all day, do we?"

"No Chief," the chorus came back.

"Fine. Then let's get some work done today, if it's not too much trouble." She flounced into her office.

Immediately, every head turned to Andy. Either he had pissed her off, or knew what was going on. He held up both hands. "Tough therapy session yesterday. I'll talk to her once she's had time to get settled and eat a Ho-Ho."

"Wish you would, cause if we catch a case, she's gonna be hell on wheels to deal with," Provenza grumped.

Andy nodded. "Yeah. Give her a few minutes." He busied himself in paperwork – that never-ending chore – and about 20 minutes later, peeked around into her office. He saw her crumple a candy wrapper and throw it in the trash. He went to the break room, got a cup of coffee and knocked on her door.

"Come in," she said.

Andy put the coffee on her desk. "Didn't know if you had time for a cup this morning, Chief."

"You'd have known if we had gone to breakfast."

So that was how she was going to be. "Sorry about that Chief, but I really was running late."

Brenda looked up at Andy for the first time. She saw the cuts on his face. "What happened to you this morning?" she said.

"That's why I was running late. Ran out of razors and used an old one, which did this damage," he answered, pointing to the three nicks on his chin, "and this one was when I found a new, cheap razor, but when you called, my hand slipped."

Faced with this evidence, Brenda felt even worse. "I'm sorry, Andy. I thought we could talk this morning."

"We can, if you'll wait until lunch. Until then, how about not taking it out on the rest of the team? You were so cheerful when you walked in." He had a wry half-grin, but his eyes were serious.

"Sorry about that. Pope blindsided me in the hallway, yowling about efficiency. He can take his efficiency…"

"And stick it where the sun don't shine," Andy finished the sentence with a genuine grin.

"Exactly. One of these days, I'm gonna give him a piece of my mind big enough for him to _choke_ on! You know, Fritzie never did like Will. I always put it down to jealousy, but I'm starting to think he was right about a few things."

Andy shrugged. "Pope's one of the top brass. Never trust the top brass," he answered. "They're always out for number one. One reason I'm glad you didn't make chief. You'd have had to change, too."

"You may have a point."

Andy winked at her. "Later," he said, and went back to his desk. As he sat down, he saw the Inquisition facing him. "She's O.K. Had a run-in with the Pope before she came in."

A collective sigh of relief followed his statement. "That's a mercy," Tao said.

"Yeah. I didn't like the look on her face at all," Sanchez agreed.

* * *

><p>Andy and Brenda did manage to make it to lunch, and he stopped by a drive-through place and got take out. "We need to be somewhere we can talk without the walls hearing," he said.<p>

A nearby park was a favorite spot for moms and children, but also had plenty of picnic tables. They sat in the shade as Brenda distributed their food. Brenda looked at Andy. He had on his gray suit, a silvery-gray shirt and a light green tie. Clothes just looked good on him.

She folded her hands on the table. "Andy, I'm sorry about last night. You were right. I just wanted to block out all that emotion. You wouldn't go along and I took out my frustration on you. I'm so sorry."

Andy reached across the table and took her hand. "I've been there, Brenda. I swear I have. And I'm not trying to be your sponsor. If I've been too preachy, I'm sorry. Forgive me."

Brenda smiled. "Oh, Andy, there's not a thing in the world to forgive where that's concerned. If you preached at me, I know I needed to hear it. I just didn't want to. I just didn't want to listen and have to deal with what's going on with me. I'm so messed up."

"We're all messed up. Eat your lunch."

"O.K." When they finished, they walked to a bench and sat down. Andy put his arm around Brenda's shoulders and they watched the kids play. "Andy, I was serious when I said I didn't always want to be fighting or making up from a fight."

"I don't want that either. Do you think that's what we've been doing?"

Brenda leaned her head against him. "Not yet. But I don't want to go there."

"Neither do I." He kissed the top of her head.

"Kind of underlines something Philippa said, though. She told me I had a lot of stuff to work through before I asked you to get into something like moving in with me. She said it wouldn't be fair to you."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, and now I see what she meant. And I can also see now why she suggested we keep it platonic for six months or so. I know you'd have waited on me." Here, she scooted closer to Andy and took his hand. "But I couldn't wait anymore. Not possible."

He grinned at her. "Well, I have to say it's nice to be around a woman who actually likes me and wants me in her life, instead of with one who's counting the days until I can get packed and leave."

"You know, I thought for a long time that you just hated women, except for sex. But you didn't want to get hurt again, so it was easier to be prickly and irritable and not risk it."

Andy snickered. "I'm still prickly and irritable. Haven't you noticed?"

"Well, yes, but it's not quite as pronounced as it used to be. You have a slightly better handle on your temper than you used to." Brenda stroked his hand.

"I told that therapist of yours that, when I'm not on the job, my temper is O.K. It's when I'm dealing with scumbags that I get, what's your word — 'testy'? I'm always fighting the urge to slam them against the wall and give them what I think they deserve."

"Actually, you're remarkably forebearing with me. I'm a little surprised you haven't completely blown your stack dealing with me. Lord knows I've deserved it."

Andy looked down at Brenda. "I will admit, I have to keep a tight rein on myself sometimes. If I didn't, you'd have gone into work not able to sit down."

Brenda laughed outright at that. "I know I've deserved it a time or two. Daddy's always said they never spanked me enough, and that he thought I needed one occasionally. My Grandma Johnson didn't have that problem. She lived on a farm near Rome, about 60 miles from Atlanta. I'd spend a week or two in the summer with her when I was little. Now, she had no issues with cutting a switch and getting after me with it."

"A switch? You mean like the branch of a tree?" Andy was shocked.

Brenda chuckled. "Sounds barbaric, huh? But I survived just fine. My brothers would all be in jail if Maw-Maw Johnson and Daddy hadn't tanned their hides regularly. But they're fine, upstanding citizens."

"Well, not like I can say much. Dad used a belt. And I know we'd all be in jail otherwise. Grandma, now. I loved her so much, but she took no crap. From anybody."

"Gee, wonder if she passed that on to any of her grandchildren?" Brenda teased.

Andy rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. At Sunday dinner, my oldest brother was there, and he was, oh, 22, 23? Anyway, he made some smart ass comment to Mom and Grandma was sitting next to him. She smacked his face right there and told him to apologize or she'd kick him out of the house. And she would have done it, too."

"What did your brother do?"

"He apologized. He knew Grandma was serious."

Brenda laughed. "Yeah, that could have happened in the Johnson household, too. Except Daddy would have flattened any of us for back-sassing Mama. Well, my brothers, that is. Me, he would have sent me to my room and taken my TV privileges away or something."

Andy glanced at his watch. "Time to get back," he said.

"Yeah, I know."

As they pulled into the parking lot, Andy looked at the visitors spaces. There were a couple of cars he would have deemed "suspicious" if he saw them in certain neighborhoods. Must be one of Delk's "community outreach" tours again. But he was still concerned. Best to keep his eyes open.

* * *

><p>Andy glanced up at the group of teens taking a tour through the department. He was still concerned about those cars in the visitors lot. Something about those "kids" didn't look quite right, but he hoped they had been cleared, so he turned his attention back to Tao, who was explaining some database he could now access on his iPad.<p>

Gabriel stood with Andy and Tao in the break room and Tao was enthusiastically showing them how connecting to this database could aid in them finding escaped criminals even sooner. "It's like an Amber Alert for bad guys," he said, and Andy and Gabriel grinned at the reference. Tao tucked the computer under his arm and the three detectives started to head back to the murder room when they heard a commotion.

"Hands up or we start shooting!" a member of the "tour group" said.

Andy, Tao and Gabriel froze in place and looked at each other. Tao motioned they should leave the break room on the opposite side, to keep them out of the line of sight of the murder room. They nodded and followed, and once in the hall, Andy pulled them into a supply closet and they locked the door. A small window looked into the hall, and they took turns as lookouts.

"What the hell was that?" Andy said.

"I don't know," Tao answered, "But we need to get this place on lockdown." He grabbed his cell and called the main line with the code all ranking officers had to call for a lockdown. It had to be confirmed by another officer, so Andy gave his authorization code as well, and Tao explained what they knew so far. They could see the red emergency lights at the end of the hallway light up, and knew the building had been secured.

Tao then called Buzz's number. He answered immediately. "Where are you?" he asked Tao.

"In a supply closet with Flynn and Gabriel. Lock your door and turn on the monitors so you can see and hear what's going on in the murder room. Tell me what's happening."

"Already there, Lieutenant. So far, it's a bunch of guys, maybe ten, flashing 3C colors. They're waving semi-automatics and saying they're out for revenge for the police not prosecuting the girl who shot that kid standing guard when they gang-raped her. They're also saying it's the LAPD's fault their leader is in jail for murder.

"You're kidding," Tao said. "He's in jail because he told his dad to kill the 3Cs who got his brother into the gang."

"Yeah well, they don't quite see it that way," Buzz answered.

"It's just an excuse, anyway. Cop killers are big men in the gang world. How did they get past the metal detectors, though?"

"I don't know, Lieutenant, other than to say you know the security people are hired by the City of Los Angeles. They're not LAPD."

"Yeah. Wonder if there's a newbie who was hired in the past month or so."

"I'll check, Lieutenant."

"Hey," Gabriel said. He was looking out the window of the supply closet. "Taylor didn't get in it. He's coming down the hall."

"Snag him," Andy said. "We need all the help we can get, even if it's Taylor."

Gabriel rolled his eyes and opened the door a crack. As Taylor walked by, Gabriel grabbed his arm and yanked him inside the room before he could make a sound. He closed the door and locked it again.

"Glad to see you, Commander," he said dryly.

"You too. What's going on in there?"

Tao filled them all in and said, "All right. Where do we go from here?"

"Well, we've got to get some better firepower," Andy said. "There's a small arms room on this floor. Commander, you got the codes?"

Taylor nodded. "Yeah. And we do have the advantage that we know this place better than they do." A noise sounded outside. Gabriel ran to the window.

"Two guys. Coming this way, with, looks like Tek-nines."

Tao spied the big lockers in the back that held the cleaning supplies. "We can fit in there. Unlock the door."

The men hid in the lockers. A moment or two later, they heard the door open, and the light clicked on. A rapid conversation in Spanish followed and the light clicked off and the door closed. Andy and Gabriel were in the same locker. "Go out, guns drawn, in case they left one behind," Andy whispered. Gabriel nodded. "Now." The two detectives flung open the door, about a foot behind a suddenly surprised gang member. Andy tackled him, hand over his mouth, while Gabriel disarmed him and cuffed him. Tao and Taylor came out of the other locker and Taylor spied a roll of duct tape. He taped the gangster's mouth.

"Now what do we do with him?" Andy said.

An idea occurred to Tao. "Commander, we'll need your codes to get into the stairwell with the doors on lockdown. We can handcuff him to the rails there. He can't get out, his buddies can't get to him, and they can't hear him, either."

Taylor smiled. "An inspired solution, Lieutenant." He took his pen and wrote down the codes. Tao and Andy picked the man up by the shoulders and ankles, and carried him to the nearest stairwell door. They locked him inside and ran back to the supply room.

Tao got back on the phone with Buzz. "Lieutenant, they're saying they've called Delk and they're making all these demands. They've said if anyone rushes them, they're shooting to kill, and I believe them."

Tao nodded. "Got it, Buzz. Is everyone all right, otherwise? Great. Thanks." He relayed the information to the others.

Brenda was fine. Andy sighed in relief. "Now what?" he said.

Tao was busy pecking on his iPad and he chuckled.

"What?" Gabriel said, still watching the window.

"Well, I just set up a chat session with Maintenance. They can kill the lights on just this floor, whenever we give the call. I was thinking, in the 'Star Trek, First Contact' movie, there's a scene where all the lights go out and nothing but red laser sights everywhere. It's cheesy,"

"And geeky," Andy interjected.

"And geeky," Tao agreed, "But it might confuse them long enough to get control of the situation. We've got to get to the arms room, but I think we can do that. And that's a reinforced area. Once we get in there, we're actually safer."

"Sounds like a plan," Andy said. He was itching to get ahold of some heavy artillery.

"Yeah, but first we've got to take care of this guy," Gabriel said. "It's the second one who was here earlier."

"Let's jump him as soon as he gets into the room and put him in the stairwell, too," Andy suggested.

Nods all around, and Gabriel unlocked the door. The gangster entered the room, and Tao, Andy and Taylor all pounced on him while Gabriel shut the door again. Once he was deposited safely with his friend, the four men drew their weapons and made for the arms room. The most fearful moment was when they were exposed at the door, waiting on Taylor to enter the code. The door clicked open and they zipped inside.

Andy felt much better once he shucked his coat and buckled on the heavy body armor and took down one of the semi-automatic rifles. "Do we have to get prior authorization on this, Commander?" he asked.

"No," Taylor answered. "This is an emergency lockdown situation. We're automatically authorized to use necessary force."

Andy checked the loads on his weapon and cocked it with a satisfied expression. "Good." If any of those dirtbags laid a hand on Brenda, he was putting them on the express train to hell.

"Buzz, give us the rundown on where everyone is in the room," Tao said over the phone. Buzz complied and Tao drew a rough sketch on his computer. Sanchez was in the back of the room. Tao sent him a text. "Officers to one side." Then he got an inspiration. "Buzz, send me the video feed to my iPad. I don't need the audio right now."

A minute or two elapsed and Tao crowed with delight when he saw the images appear. Sanchez had managed to successfully get all the officers to one side of the room, with the gang members on the other side.

"Fish in a barrel," Andy said gleefully, looking at the display. "I don't see the Chief, though. Where is she?"

"In her office. Here. On the second camera," Tao said, switching views. She was sitting at her desk, obviously scared, but also angry, watching the two men guarding her.

Andy grinned. He looked at the background and chuckled, "Stupid jerks made her close the blinds. Makes it a lot easier to get in by the back door. Can Maintenance turn the lights out in just her office?"

A few keystrokes and Tao answered, "Sure. No problem."

Gabriel had been looking up at the drop ceiling.

"What's on your mind, Detective?" Taylor asked him.

"Just thinking. If Lieutenant Flynn gets the chief, and you and Lieutenant Tao are holding weapons on them from the side of the room, why not get the upper advantage? I could go in through the ceiling from the other side of the break room. It's almost a straight shot over to where they're standing."

"Good idea, Gabriel," Taylor said. "How you gonna get up there?"

"Easy. I'll just use the ledge by the break room wall and pull myself up."

"That's a climb, David," Andy said.

Gabriel grinned at him. "Bet you didn't know I was an all-region gymnast in college. Too short for basketball and too tall for the Olympics, but I loved the parallel bars."

Taylor stared at the detective. "Now, I didn't know that about you either, David. Sounds like a plan to me."

"This I've got to see," Andy said. The group followed David down the hall to the door by the break room. David took his coat, shoes and socks off and, using Tao and Andy as a boost, got his feet on to the ledge. He pushed aside one of the ceiling tiles, and grabbing the metal frames on either side, hoisted his head and torso up into the ceiling. One good back swing and his legs went up, too. The others watched in admiration.

"I'll be damned," Andy said. "He did it." He handed David his weapon and body armor through the ceiling and Tao pointed in the direction he needed to go. He nodded. "Good hunting," Andy murmured as he watched Gabriel disappear.

"Now, to get the Chief out," Tao said, and conversed with Maintenance again. "O.K. The back door to her office has an electronic lock. You can turn the lock, but you have to key in the code, too. So, even if they think they locked the door, it doesn't engage unless you punch in the code. And we all know the chances of the Chief even knowing how to operate the door are slim to none."

"So it's a pretty good bet that door's unlocked," Andy said.

"Exactly," Tao answered. "So, you go and try the door, very carefully. If it's unlocked, send me a text, and I'll have maintenance kill the lights in her office and in the hall on that side, on your signal. Get her out, and meanwhile, we'll be distracting the others. Sound good to you, Commander?" He suddenly remembered they were in the presence of a superior officer.

"Hey, you're the tactician, Lieutenant. Everything you've done has worked so far. You'd better tell Buzz to be on the alert, though, when the lights go out."

"Already sent him a text," Tao said. "And you and I, Commander, will be ready in the break room. When the lights go out in the Chief's office, we kill the lights out here and start aiming. David will be aiming from the ceiling. Whoever needs to can call the code red, if necessary." The "code red" call meant fire at will. They could depend on the other officers to either hit the dirt or, if they had their weapons, to start shooting, too, if the call sounded.

"How long will we be in the dark, Lieutenant Tao?" Taylor asked.

"About one minute. That ought to create enough confusion to break up the party. If not, we call the code red and see what happens when the dust settles."

"Works for me," Andy said. He checked his weapon again and said, "Wish me luck. As the Chief says, I'm 'fixin' to go hunting." He disappeared around the corner.

Taylor and Tao grinned at the reference. Taylor thought there was something going on between those two, and Tao, of course, knew there was, but this was the time, if ever there was one, to turn Andy loose. He was fearless and he and Sanchez constantly vied for the position of best shot on the squad. Plus, Taylor knew the lieutenant wouldn't hesitate to use any means, fair or foul, to get those goons in the Chief's office. In a situation like this, Andy would shoot first and ask questions never.

"Let's get ready," Tao said, and he and Taylor crept to either side of the break room door facing the murder room. Tao got Taylor's attention and motioned upward. David was in position and had eased the corner of a tile out of place. They could see the muzzle of his rifle flush with the ceiling tile.

Andy sent Tao a text, "Door open. Lights." Tao sent the maintenance department the signal and the lights immediately went out in the chief's office and in the hall behind the door.

The back door to the chief's office flew open and Andy didn't say a word. He just started using the butt of his rifle as a club, not wanting to draw fire from the main room, and was pleased when he connected with one of the gangster's ribs. The kid collapsed with a grunt.

When the toughs originally burst into her office, Brenda had enough presence of mind to get her weapon out and she promptly sat on it. Even though that wasn't the safest course of action, it meant she could get to her weapon if she had to. As soon as the lights went out, she grabbed it, knowing this had to mean one of the detectives not in the murder room had come in.

A hand grabbed her by the hair in the darkness and she squirmed until Andy's baritone growled, "Stop it and get outta here!" She ducked under his arm and into the darkened hallway, weapon at the ready, in case another of the gang members came around the corner. Andy had forced the second man out at gunpoint. When the lights came on, Andy had the muzzle shoved into the kid's throat. The gangster, however, had his weapon pressed to Andy's stomach.

"So you gonna play chicken, you little piece of shit?" Andy said. "You might get that shot off, but it's gotta go through my body armor, and I am guaranteed to get my shot and splatter your worthless brains on the ceiling. And you know what else? You'd be committing murder. If I remember right, that's a mortal sin, and all the prayers and masses from now until judgment day won't fish your sorry soul out of hell. And I'll be playing the harps with the angels because I'd be laying down my life for a friend. Well, after I get out of Purgatory. But I'll get there eventually. You won't."

This kid had always been told cops were cowards, that they wouldn't shoot, they didn't have the _cojones _to kill with the odds against them. But looking into this big man's cold eyes, the kid knew that was a lie. This _muchacho_ would shoot him dead and never lose a minute of sleep over it. He might indeed, get that shot, but those deadly black eyes would be the last thing he ever saw in this world. Whoever said cops were soft had never run into this _lobo grande_. The kid's weapon clattered to the floor and he dropped to his knees, praying in Spanish.

Andy smiled grimly and with Brenda still holding her gun on the kid, cuffed him and unloaded his weapon.

The kid Andy had slammed in the ribs somehow managed to crawl to his gun and was taking aim at Andy from the doorway. Brenda saw him and screamed, "Get down, Andy!" She threw herself on top of the kid and put her pistol to his temple. "Do it. Shoot him. See what happens."

Andy looked at Brenda's face. Her eyes were narrowed, her mouth set, and he knew if that kid twitched, he was dead. "I'd drop that gun if I were you," he said. "She means it." The kid carefully loosened his hold on his gun and with her opposite hand, Brenda scooted it across the floor to Andy, who immediately unloaded it. He cuffed that gang member too, glad he had remembered to snag several pairs from the arms room.

"Where are Gabriel and Tao?" Brenda asked.

"We found Taylor and they're trying to take back the murder room. I haven't heard any shots so they must have been able to do it without firing on them."

"Provenza's gonna be mad as an old wet hen that those kids got the drop on him," Brenda chuckled.

Andy smiled. "Well, if we hadn't been in the break room with one of Tao's gadgets, we'd have all been in there. So thank Mike Tao for being such a geek." His phone buzzed. It was a text from Tao. "Scene secured."

"Looks like they're all right," Andy said. "Let's go see what happened."

Brenda sighed. "I've got enough gray hair already, without stuff like this going on."

Andy rubbed the back of his head. "I'll never know if I get an extra one," he joked.

"I like your hair," Brenda said. "On you, it looks good."

"At least I've still got it all," he deadpanned. Before Brenda could walk back to the murder room, Andy grabbed her and kissed her. "I'm so thankful you're all right," he said.

Brenda returned the kiss. "I can't even tell you how glad I am to see you in one piece too," she replied.

Chief and lieutenant went around the corner to the murder room and saw Tao, Sanchez and Taylor lining the attackers against the wall and reading them their rights. Brenda was right. Provenza was hopping mad that the gangsters had gotten into his murder room.

"Chief! I never saw the guns, I swear!"

"It's all right, Lieutenant. They were carrying Tek-nines. You did what you were supposed to do," Brenda reassured him. She looked around. "Where's Detective Gabriel?"

A voice above her said, "Hi Chief." She looked up. He was grinning at her from the ceiling.

"Oh, my Lord! What are you doing up there?" she exclaimed.

"Air support," David laughed.

"How you gonna get down, is what I'd like to know," Provenza said. "Not to mention how you got up there in the first place without a ladder."

"You'd have to have seen it to believe it," Andy said.

David handed his weapon down to Andy. "Take this if you will, Lieutenant, and if you'll just stand aside, getting down is a heck of a lot easier." David took hold of the metal ceiling frames, lowered himself to hang by his hands and dropped lightly to the floor.

Taylor laughed and said, "I'll call the main desk to get us off lockdown, and Tao and Flynn, why don't you two go get our other guests out of the stairwell?"

"Stairwell?" Brenda said.

"I'll tell you later, Chief," Andy answered. "C'mon, Mike. Let's go get the trash."

As they brought in the other two gang members, Taylor went to the leader of the little group. "Pass the word to the 3C's," he said. "Don't screw around with the LAPD." He looked over at Gabriel, Tao and Andy. "Let's get this stuff back in the arms room where it belongs." The four men went to the room and checked the equipment back in. Andy glanced at his watch. He couldn't believe the whole incident had gone down in just over two hours. Unbelievable.

When they got back to the murder room, everyone was still milling around, getting the suspects processed and so forth. Andy leaned against the side of the cubicle wall, watching the activity. Brenda came to stand beside him, as close as she could without actually touching him. He looked down at her with a smile and grazed her wrist with his fingertips. She shivered with the contact, but didn't change her expression.

About that time, Will and Delk came charging into the murder room.

"Day late and a dollar short," Andy cracked softly. "Like they did anything."'

Brenda elbowed him. "Behave," she hissed.

"Chief Johnson, are you all right?" Will said.

"I'm fine, Chief Pope. As you and Chief Delk can see, we have the situation under control, thanks to my squad."

Will went to Brenda and started to put his hands on her shoulders, but something in Lieutenant Flynn's eyes made him re-think the gesture and he patted her upper arm. "We're thankful you and your squad are O.K.," he said, glancing again at Flynn. He hadn't changed his position – he was still leaning against the wall – but there was something about him that Will recognized as the male of the species defending his territory.

Delk took one look at the Chief and her lieutenant and thought he knew exactly what was going on. Trouble was, even as Chief of Police, outranking both officers, did he want to take on Brenda Johnson _and_ Andy Flynn? And even if he did, he couldn't control what they did off the clock, no matter what he said in the office.

Andy saw the grimace on Pope's face, the realization on Delk's, and knew the cat was now officially out of the bag. He met Delk's gaze. After all, what was he going to do when they weren't at work?

Tommy Delk saw the look in Flynn's eyes. He hadn't known the lieutenant that long, but when Andy raised an eyebrow at him, he decided that taking a wait-and-see approach might be the best option. He hadn't had any complaints from her squad, and they were still churning out their usual successful stats for closing cases. Apparently, they had worked well together today in bringing a potentially deadly situation to a close without bloodshed, so it might be better to ignore what he couldn't positively confirm. He nodded briefly at Andy, and received a slow nod of acknowledgment in return. Flynn made him uncomfortable, though. Brenda would have understood Delk's feelings. Sometimes she thought Andy knew way too much about what went on in her head, too.

Delk cleared his throat. "I'm glad everyone is fine. And Chief Johnson, obviously your team did a superior job in handling this situation. It will send a message to the people of Los Angeles that the LAPD is ready for anything, but will work to resolve circumstances without unnecessary violence."

It was all Andy could do to keep from rolling his eyes, but he managed. Typical Delk politics.

"Thank you so much, Chief Delk. I've always said I had the best team in the LAPD. I think this proves it," Brenda answered gracefully.

"And, as to how the suspects got up here armed, one of their girlfriends was hired six weeks ago on the security team. She turned the detector off when they went through, and she's been taken into custody, also. So, we'll leave you all to finish processing the scene and suspects," Will said. "Good job, everyone."

He and Delk started for the elevator, and met Sharon Raydor exiting it. "Is there anything I need to take care of, chiefs?" she asked.

"Not really, Captain," Will answered. "No shots were fired, and as far as we can determine, everyone followed procedures."

"Is that so? I have to say, I have a hard time believing that's the case with this division," she said.

"To be honest, Captain, I do too," Will replied.

They got on the elevator, while she continued on into the murder room. Andy saw her first. She smiled at him and he gave her a wink and a grin. Well, Andy was fine, so that was a mercy.

Brenda, however, bristled when the brunette came around the corner. What did that woman want?

"Chief Johnson, I'm glad to hear no one was injured in this incident."

"Thank you, Captain Raydor. Now what can I do for you?" Her voice was clipped.

"I just need to confirm none of the officers fired any shots and I'm done. Since it was a lockdown situation, I understand Commander Taylor authorized the use of the assault weapons. That's procedure and not a problem."

"Well, as far as I know, not a single officer discharged his weapon. Neither did I."

Andy concurred. "It's fine, Captain. I never heard a single shot from anyone. Check our weapons, if you need to."

"That won't be necessary, Lieutenant. I hadn't heard of any shots fired, but I did have to confirm it. I'll make out my report now. Again, I'm glad no one was hurt."

"We are too, Captain," Andy answered.

She nodded at the two and went around the corner.

Brenda narrowed her eyes. "That woman. Why did she need to come pokin' around up here?"

"She's doing her job."

Brenda scowled at Andy. "I wish she'd just stay under her rock!"

"Settle down," he said, very softly.

"Lieutenant, can I see you in my office, please?"

"Yes, ma'am," he answered. They went into Brenda's office, and she motioned him into the file room.

"Sharon was doing her job, Brenda," Andy said. "She got the information and left. What else did she need to do?"

"I just don't like you taking up for her like that."

"Like I've told you before: I'm not taking up for her. I'm taking up for the officer. She and Jim Emerick are dating. What's the problem?"

"I don't like her sniffing around you."

"Jealousy is ugly on you, Brenda."

"I'm not jealous!"

Andy didn't need to say a word. The look on his face said everything.

"Well, maybe I'm a little jealous. But after all, there is some history there."

"Old history. Time to get past it."

"I guess I need to put that on the list to discuss with Philippa."

"Good idea. And if you'll think for a minute, I think you'll come to the conclusion that Captain Raydor has been pretty much absent from this floor for a while."

Brenda scowled at Andy again and stamped her foot. "I swear, I hate it when you're right about something like this."

"It's O.K. Go eat some chocolate and calm down. It's been a tough afternoon for everybody."

"And that's something else, Andy! Don't talk to me like I'm 12! I'm a grown woman! Don't patronize me!"

Andy was a little taken aback. He thought about how he sounded. Maybe she had a point. "It wasn't intentional, Brenda. I'm sorry," he answered. And he was. But if she didn't insist on acting 12 some days… But he knew that was no excuse.

Brenda didn't know what irritated her more: Andy being a little patronizing, or his prompt admission and apology. He just wouldn't argue with her about too much. As infamous as he was in the department for being a hothead, he wouldn't fight with her. Not often. Fritz was always up for a squabble. Andy wouldn't do it, though.

"I'll see you later," she said, walking out of the file room and into her office. Andy left from the opposite door. Andy had been honest with Brenda earlier: one reason he wouldn't argue with her was because he knew his temper might get the best of him. The other was that not fighting with her took the wind out of her sails and frustrated her no end. It tickled him to see her turn on her heel and stomp out, angry because he wouldn't get into it with her. It probably wasn't the most honorable motive in the world, but it kept him chuckling. He tended to pick his battles carefully with Brenda. Like last night. It was either that or go crazy.

* * *

><p>"Days like this give me high blood pressure," Sharon said to Jim as they relaxed on her sofa.<p>

"Days like this give _everyone_ high blood pressure," he answered. "But my God, what a team!If Sun Tzu hadn't already written 'The Art of Warfare,' then Mike Tao could have. Andy told me what he did. Well, I wanted to be in the action, and lo and behold, I am."

"At least it wasn't in Robbery/Homicide. So you were just in the vicinity of the action. One of the uniforms said they dragged out one of the gang members, who apparently had a run-in with Andy, and he was saying the Rosary over and over and vowing to go on the straight and narrow when he got out of jail. He was still saying it when they got him to his cell."

Jim laughed. "Sounds familiar, but how did the officer know it was our Andrew who engendered that reaction?"

Sharon snickered. "In between decades of the prayer, he kept babbling about the big, gray-haired _muy loco_ cop. Who else could it be?"

Jim nearly rolled off the sofa laughing. "Big and crazy. That's Andy, without a doubt. I'd give my next pay packet to have seen that confrontation. Must have been when he got Brenda out of her office."

"I hear Buzz has the entire thing on video. Their whole floor is wired up. Want me to see if I can score a copy?"

"Now wouldn't that make entertaining viewing at the next office party?" Jim cracked.

"Indeed it would." She turned to Jim. "So how would you like to celebrate the successful conclusion of a domestic terrorist attack on Major Crimes?"

Jim grinned and put his arms around Sharon. "Would you believe I have a few ideas?" He kissed her.

* * *

><p>The murder room was finally quiet and Andy was waiting on Brenda to finish her last report. She knew he was at his desk and she didn't really want to leave the safety of her office, not after snapping at him like that earlier. Had he really been that patronizing? Maybe a little, but she knew she owed him another apology. She sighed. She was going to have to really start thinking about what came out of her mouth, and not just fire off with the first thing that popped into her head.<p>

With that in mind, she left her office and went to Andy's desk. "Hey," she said softly. "Ready to go?"

"Sure. Just let me log off." He did and as he pushed back from his desk, Brenda perched on his knee and put her forehead to his.

"I am so sorry about going off on you. You didn't deserve that. And I don't deserve you, that's for sure. Not after the way I've treated you."

He stroked her hair. "We were all a little tense. Let's get something to eat and we'll feel better."

"You're too good to me, Andy."

"Shut up and let's get some food," he said, teasing.

"O.K."

They were in a cozy booth in one of Andy's favorite Italian places. It was dim and Brenda was intent on driving Andy crazy before they got to wherever they were going to spend the night. She had started it in the car after they dropped hers off, touching his knee while he drove, stroking the nape of his neck. In the restaurant, she kept touching him, but underneath the table, her fingers kept wandering up his thigh.

When their food arrived, Andy swore Brenda was eating as provocatively as possible. She took a bite of his mushroom risotto and licked her lips appreciatively. "It's sooo creamy!" she drawled.

He knew her campaign was serious when she ordered cannoli for dessert and leisurely licked the chocolate shell off the pastry. Then, she dipped her finger into the filling and licked it clean.

Again, that urge to spank Brenda washed over Andy. She was so deliberate about it. Instead of eating that stupid cannoli, she was dissecting it with her tongue. "You know, this filling is so good! Wonder how they do it," she said, her accent pouring out like sorghum molasses, as she scooped the filling out of the pastry with her tongue. "Guess I'll just have to find a recipe."

He was getting that familiar feeling of his skin tightening over his bones. He had left his necktie in the car, along with his coat, so at least that wasn't constricting his breathing. He leaned to whisper in Brenda's ear. "Finish that damn cannoli, or I'm takin' you outside and we're going to get acquainted with the back seat of my car. Right here in the parking lot."

Brenda looked at Andy. His eyes were flashing with a dark fire that made her leery and curled her toes at the same time. "Obnoxious," she replied.

"I'm warning you. You want to act like you're 16, then things happen. Like this." Andy slipped his hand up her skirt and underneath her panties before she could move out of range.

Brenda clamped her lips together to keep from squealing and desperately tried to wriggle away without attracting too much attention. She kept forgetting that Andy wasn't as concerned with proprieties as Fritz had been. He was worried about his image as an FBI agent. Andy didn't care. Copping a feel on his girlfriend didn't do a thing to tarnish the LAPD image, as far as he was concerned. In fact, since she was a deputy chief and widely considered one of the top five hottest women in the entire department, it was no disgrace whatsoever.

Still, Brenda attempted to extricate herself, when she finally reached over and pinched him in the ribs. He flinched and removed his hand. "That is _so_ gonna cost you, Miss Atlanta," he said, giving her _that_ look again.

"You are lewd, crude and socially unacceptable," she said primly.

The grin she got, coupled with that gleam in his eyes was nearly her undoing. "And you love it, babe," he growled in response. "I told you to finish that thing, didn't I?"

Brenda finally took an actual bite of the dessert and looked at Andy. He had leaned an elbow on the table and was watching every move she made. She'd seen the same look in Joel's eyes, right before he pounced on her foot in the mornings. "I can't enjoy it with you staring at me like that," she said, her mouth full.

"Eat," was all he said.

Two more bites were all she could muster under Andy's unwavering gaze. She wondered for the millionth time how the world's most irritating man could also be the one she just happened to be completely crazy about. It was her burden to bear, she supposed. She both anticipated and dreaded getting back to his place, which, since it was closer, was where they would most likely go. On the one hand, she knew exactly what was going on inside his head. On the other hand, when he got that particular look in his eyes, he was capable of most anything.

In high school, Brenda had always dated the "nice" boys, but the ones she really wanted were those rumored to be the guys who were dangerous to a girl's virginity – the ones Clay Johnson would have shot on sight. She used to flirt with them in the lunchroom, though, and she could feel their eyes on her as she swished by in her Sasson jeans, cashmere sweaters and high-heeled Candies. The ones who grew up and didn't end up in jail became the Andy Flynns of the world. So she finally had a true-blue "bad boy" who was worth having, and half the time, she had no idea how to handle him. Multiple felons, no big deal. But the Irish-Italian Jersey boy with a weakness for both leather jackets and silk-backed vests? The one with the hands that could rip someone apart or drive her to madness? The one with the baritone growl that could put the fear of the Almighty in the heart of a suspect, then turn it into a caress when he kissed her? That one was an enigma.

"Now who's staring?" he said, the sensual version of the growl in his voice.

"I think I'm finished," she squeaked. When was she going to learn that playing with Andy's kind of fire never resulted in anything but singed fingers? What was the line in the song about "a brand new box of matches?" She could tease Fritz like this, and never worry. He might growl a little, might sweep her off her feet, even, but never was it like teasing Andy. "Ready to leave?" she asked, her voice still trembling.

"Oh yeah."

Brenda slid out of the booth and Andy followed her. As soon as they were on their feet, his hand went possessively to the small of her back, almost, but not quite, on her bottom. They stood at the register as he paid the bill, and talked with the owner in soft Italian. Brenda knew he spoke a little because of his grandmother, but had no idea if he was fluent or not. The whole time they stood there, his hand was making little circles on her back, and making her a little crazy in the process.

Outside, Brenda said, "I didn't know you spoke so much Italian."

"It's not that much. Mostly kitchen Italian. I understand a lot more than I speak. He did all the talking."

"Oh. It's more than I can speak, though."

"You speak Southern. That's a foreign language all by itself," he teased.

"Hush up," she answered.

But when they got to the car, Andy pushed Brenda against it. It was after nine, and the place was deserted, so there was no one to see. But she still struggled when his mouth came to hers and his tongue swept into her mouth, muting any protests. His hands came under her top and dealt efficiently with her bra.

Somehow, Brenda managed to pull back enough to say, "Andy, what are you doing?"

"You better be half undressed by the time we get to my place. I ain't dealing with a bunch of buttons and zippers." He was devouring the skin on her neck, and she could feel the razor stubble marking her skin, in spite of him having shaved that morning. Liquid fire licked through her veins.

Suddenly, he left her body and yanked the passenger door open. "Get in." She did and watched as Andy moved around the car and slid behind the wheel. He gunned the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. They were halfway to his place when he glanced over at her. "I was serious. Those clothes better fall off when we get inside or they're getting ripped off."

Brenda looked at him. He wasn't joking, but the thought of Andy literally tearing her clothes off made her go hot and cold. Sort of like when he threatened to cuff her to the bed. Still, she didn't want her clothes rendered unwearable, so she reached behind her back and unbuttoned and mostly unzipped her skirt. Her top could be pulled over her head.

When they got to his place, he pulled her into the doorway and kissed her again. As he unlocked the door, she finished unzipping her skirt, so when they were inside and the door was closed and locked, Andy turned to her and she let go of the waist and the skirt fluttered to her ankles.

"Glad you took me seriously," he said and Brenda stepped out of her shoes and the skirt on the floor. Andy took her again and with more of those hot, wet kisses, pushed her back against the hallway wall. In seconds, she was standing only in her panties and Andy hauled his own shirt over his head and had his trousers on the floor. He pushed her back against the wall, one hand between her legs, stroking her, the other holding her shoulder to the wall, his mouth all over her lips, her neck, her breasts. She knew she was going to have a stellar case of beard burn in the morning. But this was so intense, so delicious, so hot.

Andy could talk dirty with the best of them, and he was whispering in her ear exactly what he was going to do to her, rubbing against her with his arousal to make his point. Brenda couldn't even think. She was turning into a puddle of melting caramel and his erotic whispers weren't doing a thing for coherent thought. Oh, she had so found her bad boy, and apparently, brought out every basic male instinct he had.

The small tidbit of Andy's brain that still worked was deciding whether he should wait until he got her to a bed to complete this act. He thought it would be easier on his knees, for certain. But her body against his was so incredible. She was warm and soft and he wanted her so much he was nearly over the edge from just touching and kissing her. She smelled good, she felt good and he rasped against her skin. "Get your sweet ass in that bed or I'm takin' you to the floor right here."

Walk? How was that supposed to happen, Brenda wondered. But she made the effort, with Andy right behind her. Usually, he turned on the side lamp, but this time he didn't. It was dark and she couldn't see much except his shadow. But she could feel his body, and that was enough. Then, he was beside her and his mouth was on her breasts. He teased and licked her nipples, and found her center again, where he stroked her, heating her blood even more. The thought crossed Brenda's mind that, if he was half the lover in high school that he was now, there were a lot of satisfied females walking around his hometown. His skills were a point of pride with him. He wanted his woman sated and happy.

He trailed his tongue back to her mouth and took it again. He kissed her breathless once again and shifting himself, plunged inside her body. Brenda moaned with the contact and arched her back to meet him. He was going hard and deep, and she was, once again, unconsciously digging her nails into his skin. But this time, Andy didn't even feel it. Brenda wasn't fighting him at all and they were finally getting into that state where he couldn't tell where he ended and she began.

As Brenda's climax rocked her body, and Andy followed her soon after, she wondered if she hadn't just had the best sex of her whole life. There was no wondering in Andy's mind. He knew it was. He was glad his neighbors were college kids. A little noise wasn't going to bother them. Good thing, since Brenda was definitely a screamer.

Andy was all about snuggling and enjoying the afterglow, and he made sure the five minutes he had before he zonked out were spent in kissing Brenda and stroking her skin. As he cuddled her body to his, he told her he loved her and that was it. He was out for the count.

Brenda was nearly as sleepy herself, but she had to laugh at Andy. Once in a while, he could manage to stay awake after sex, but most of the time, he was out for at least an hour. Might as well go with the flow. If they woke up later, there would be more cuddling. She was getting used to going to sleep with her body pleasantly achy from Andy's lovemaking. It was a nice way to end the day, she thought. Especially this day. No, Andy never sought out the hero's spotlight, ever, but today, he was her hero. One more time, when she needed him, he was right there. "You're the love of my life," she murmured, as sleep claimed her, finally.


	18. Chapter 18: Words and Silence

**A/N:** Finally, an update. Yay! Here's a tip: if you want to write goodness, I suggest listening to either the Jeff Buckley or Bon Jovi covers of "Hallelujah." Works for me. This does a little plot advancing and Brenda is finally confronted with why she feels compelled to pick fights with Andy. Please do R&R. I think I mentioned before that reviews are crack! LOL. Thanks always to lieutenantflynn, for her faithful reviews, and to everyone who takes the time to read and jot down their thoughts. I read and appreciate each one! P.S. If I have any boo-boos in my bits of Italian, please forgive me. I was relying on my very limited knowledge and the Google translator. :)

_Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 18: Words and Silence<strong>

Among Brenda's top 10 most wonderful happenings, waking up to Andy's kisses had to be near the top of the list, if not number one. A couple of hours ago, he was that dominant alpha male who set her on fire. Now, he was her teddy bear again. Who in the department would believe he was so cuddly, and snuggly? But he was.

She giggled as his hand hit that tickle spot right over her hip. She wriggled away and kissed him. "Stop tickling me," she said.

"Didn't mean to," he answered, but Brenda didn't believe him.

"You just like hearing me squeal."

"Well, yeah," he said, nuzzling her neck. "You sound like a third-grader when you do."

"One of these days, one of these days…" her voice trailed off.

Andy chuckled. "Pow. Right in the kisser? Been there, done that," he teased.

"You don't respect my position as your superior officer."

Another chuckle. "You're right. I don't. Not when you're naked and in my bed, anyway. But it does you good not to be in charge everywhere. Keeps you humble."

"Ha."

"If you minded that much, you wouldn't put up with me."

"I don't know why _you_ put up with me," Brenda said with a sigh.

"I don't know, either. Something about that whole 'love' thing, I think. It's kind of expected of me, or that's what I heard, anyway," Andy replied, a mock-puzzled tone in his voice.

Brenda laughed softly. "Good thing. Nobody at work would believe you're such a sweetheart. You're such a grouch."

"Defense mechanism. If you're grouchy, nobody bothers you. It's worked for Provenza for years."

"You don't really want to choose him as your role model, now do you?"

"You'd rather I acted like that snake, Pope? At least with me, you know what you're getting," Andy replied.

"Oh, no doubt. But there have been a few surprises along the way. You're not a grouch _all_ the time."

"Well, don't go spreading it around, O.K.? You'd ruin my rep. By the way, Delk has us figured out."

"Who told him?"

"Nobody. He saw us together this afternoon and put two and two together. He's pretty sharp, Brenda. But he didn't say anything, just nodded to me. So, as long as we keep it professional, I don't think he cares. But watch your step around Will Pope. If it gets him ahead, he'll let you swing in the wind."

Brenda sighed. "You know, Fritzie told me essentially the same thing."

Andy raised himself up on an elbow and looked at her. "Brenda, Pope has never been honest with you. You didn't know he was married when you were with him – or not for a long time, anyway. He brought you out to L.A., hoping he could rekindle that old flame, and he was married to Estelle then. Yeah, I know, he's helped us out. He's looked the other way. But Brenda, it's always been because he hoped that you'd sleep with him again." Andy stroked her hair. "Not that I blame him for that. You'd be a tough habit to give up." He grinned at her. "But he would sell you out in a heartbeat if it meant he climbs the ladder. Don't ever forget that."

"I always told Fritzie he was my friend."

Andy shook his head. "He's not your friend. Not really. I don't think he's able to be anybody's friend. He's a good administrator and he loves his kids. Otherwise, he's a creep who's out for number one."

"Do you ever think about being promoted, Andy?"

"Me? Hell, no. Now, would I turn in my lieutenant's bars? Nope. But am I looking for captain? No way. Being at this rank is pretty much ideal. I don't have the responsibility of a division chief, but I get the pay of a ranking officer. Works out nice that way."

Brenda smiled. "And I know you'd rather be out chasing bad guys than dealing with paperwork all day."

"You got that right. A desk job would drive me bananas. 'Course, I didn't sign away half my pension to my first wife like Provenza did to his, so when I retire, the money's mine. So I won't have to beg for a desk job when I get too old to roll out to a crime scene. I'll just leave, buy Dodgers' season tickets and watch baseball."

"So that's why he keeps hanging on," Brenda laughed. "I kind of wondered. I knew he had the years in to retire, probably ten years ago."

"He did, but mostly it's because he loves the job and I think he'd really miss it."

"You'd miss it."

"Maybe, but it might take a couple of years. I like the satisfaction of closing a case and putting some scumbag behind bars where he belongs, but it gets old some days. I get tired of seeing the terrible things people are capable of doing to each other, not to mention the even worse crap they do to cover it up."

"I know," Brenda agreed. "It doesn't sit too well with me, either." She sighed deeply.

"What's up, babe? You all right?" Andy asked.

"Andy, I had a dream about the Turell Baylor case the other night. Do you think I did the right thing? I'm afraid it's going to come back on me."

He was silent for a long moment. "Brenda, Turell Baylor shot an old man and his grandson. That led to the murder of his own brother and his two friends – men who gave honorable service for their country. Yeah, I know Reggie Moses killed them, but Turell's hand was on top of his, aiming the gun, for all intents and purposes. You almost had a case against him for transferred intent. That one piece of crap broke up how many families? For what? A few bucks in the cash register in that store. He'd probably be back in jail by now, anyway."

"But did I do the right thing? Should I have arranged for protection for him?"

"For how long? You think those bangers were gonna let him get by with that? He was a marked man as long as he stayed in L.A. He would have had to have moved across the country to get away from them. He was a dead man walking. They would have gotten to him somewhere. His house, a gas station, somewhere. At least at his house, he didn't take one more innocent person with him."

"His mother lost both her sons," Brenda said, her voice barely audible.

"Hell of a thing, no doubt. But Turell Baylor was a homicide victim waiting to happen. All those bangers are. It's just a matter of time. If not last summer, then this summer. Or next summer. The only question is how many he was going to take with him. Isn't five enough?"

"I just can't shake the feeling I haven't heard the last of this."

Andy gathered Brenda to his chest. "Try not to worry about it. We've got your back, though. Pope might let you swing. We won't."

"I don't want to think any more about that, anyway."

"No, you don't need to let it get to you."

For the thousandth time, Brenda thought again how there was nowhere safer than Andy's arms. Her demons couldn't touch her when her cheek was pillowed against his chest, when his hands were on her skin, caressing the tension out of her body, keeping those devils far away from her. And when he kissed her, the outside world just disappeared. With that in mind, she raised her face to his for one of those tender, sweet, luscious kisses that didn't go anywhere. They only underlined how much Andy cared about her.

Andy had known Brenda was feeling fragile, which was more than understandable. You didn't just get over two men slamming into your office and holding you at gunpoint for a couple of hours.

* * *

><p>Brenda sipped her coffee at Andy's table the next morning. "What are you doing this weekend, since you're off?"<p>

"What do you want to do?" he asked. He had just poured himself a cup.

"Spend it all in bed with you," she answered with a grin. "We can take turns cooking."

Andy laughed and kissed her on top of her head. "I had no idea you were such a nympho."

"Until you came along, I didn't know it either," she replied with an arch grin.

He shook his head. "Jeez, Brenda. You give me way too much credit."

Brenda looked at him in his crisp white shirt, black vest and red and black patterned tie. He was leaning against the counter with his coffee cup in hand. She thought about that night in her office and sighed. She could tear his clothes off again right now. "No, the problem is I haven't given you _enough_ credit until now," she said with a smile.

He snorted. "I'm no saint, Brenda. You know that."

"I wouldn't want you if you were. Where's the challenge in that?"

Andy just laughed at that remark. He glanced at the clock. "If you're going to work today, you might want to get dressed."

"I know."

Andy's cell rang and he went to answer it. Brenda continued to drink her coffee until she heard him say, "Oh God. No. When?" She looked over at Andy. His eyes were closed and he was pinching the bridge of his nose with his other hand. "O.K. Yeah. Sure. Text me her number and I'll give her a call. Oh, this sucks. I know. We all know it can happen. Sure. Thanks for letting me know." He hung up and sat in a kitchen chair, tossing his phone to the table. "Damn," he said.

"What in the world is going on?" Brenda asked.

Andy shook his head. His eyes were bleak. "Guy in my home group. His wife found him this morning. He'd been having a rough time, and apparently, just drank himself to death last night. _Damn_!" he said again, slamming his hand on the table.

Brenda got up and went to Andy and put her arms around him. "Oh, sweetheart, I am so, so sorry. That's so terrible. How long had he been in AA?"

"About five years. He had been doing so well. Came to meetings, worked a good program. Then he got laid off, they almost lost their house and it was just too much for him, I guess." As Brenda rested her chin on Andy's shoulder, he reached to stroke her hair. He was glad she was here for a couple of reasons. It was wonderful to have the comfort, but it was also a grim reminder for her, maybe, and certainly for him, that alcohol and addiction routinely killed.

Brenda kissed Andy's cheek. "I'm just so sorry. Do you need to go see his wife or anything?"

"I'll call her later on." He shook his head. "Just tells me again what this stuff will do to people."

"I guess you never know, do you?"

"Nope. It can happen to anybody. That's why you work your program every day. That's the only way to stay sober."

Brenda tightened her arms around Andy's neck and put her cheek against his hair. She thought about what might have happened if he hadn't gotten clean. Would he still be here now? She shuddered. That didn't bear thinking about. "I'm so glad you're sober," she said.

"Me too. On days like today, I'm especially grateful." His voice was sad, though.

She stroked his hair. "I'm grateful for you every day."

"That's nice to know," he said. "I can tell you some people who aren't grateful, though."

"Stop talking like that. I do need to get home and get dressed for work."

"Guess so," he answered. "Let me get my coat on." He stood and went to put on his jacket. Brenda looked at him appreciatively. He had his black suit on today. In black, he looked downright dangerous. Andy saw her expression and raised an eyebrow at her. "What?" he said.

"You just do something for a suit, that's all," she answered.

"Really? Well, glad you like it," he grinned.

"Oh, I do. I like you in a suit, in jeans, or in..." she paused a beat. "Nothing at all."

That elicited a chuckle. "Flirt," he replied.

"I try." She went to him and kissed him, stroking his neck, since that was about all she could touch, since his clothes covered the rest of him.

Andy held her close, and took advantage of the fact she hadn't dressed for work. He combed his fingers through her curls and kissed her with enough passion to make her really wish neither of them had to go to the office.

She sighed into the kiss and said, "If you keep on, we'll never get anywhere today." She pulled back, reluctantly, and started for the door.

"Oh, it's never your fault when you start kissing me and we're late, now is it?" he teased.

"Oh, _never_!" she said with a snicker. "I have another session with Philippa this afternoon. I called her yesterday morning and she said she wanted to see me. I guess I'm in for it," she sighed. "But I deserve it after what I said to you."

"Water under the bridge," Andy said, although he really hoped Philippa pinned Brenda's ears back about it. He wasn't going to do it, but if she did, well, that was all right with him. He loved Brenda, but she was going to have to get a handle on her mouth and her temper. They were opposites in that way. Brenda generally controlled herself very well at work. It was in private that she turned her emotions loose. Andy, conversely, could keep his cool most of the time when he wasn't in the office. Now, anyway. It hadn't always been like that, he thought, ruefully.

* * *

><p>"Brenda," Philippa said, "We've got to get to the bottom of why you keep picking fights with Andy."<p>

"I know. I know. I think it's habit. I used to do it with Fritz."

"Habit may play a part, but I think there's something bigger at work."

"Like what?"

"Control. As long as Andy does what you want him to do, everything rolls along nicely. But when something happens and he asserts himself, you pick a fight, or you try to. I think you told me Andy won't often fight with you. Now, was that the pattern with Fritz? As long as he was amenable to what you wanted, things were O.K.?"

Brenda sighed. "Well, yes, I suppose it was. And you know, Andy's told me that, with him, I'm not going to get my way all the time."

The therapist laughed at this. "Red flag in front of a bull. He's told you that you don't have sole control of the relationship and you can't stand it. So every time he pushes a little, you have to push back twice as hard."

Brenda was silent for a moment. "I guess so."

"I told you that you are deeply attached to Andy, and you are. So let me ask you, Brenda: are you willing to risk a healthy relationship where you're very happy, for control? Andy's a patient man with you and will put up with a surprising amount of static, which I find incredible, given his basic temperament. But he won't do it forever, and Brenda, you don't want to push him to that point. You will regret it the rest of your life if you do."

"So what do I do to get past this?"

"Good question. I'm going to give you a list of strategies to use when you know you're trying to fight for control of something. Asking yourself these questions will help you identify whether this is really a battle you need to fight, if you can leave it for another day, or need to let go of it altogether. If you will do this consistently, I think you'll find that you feel less inclined to stir something up with Andy, because you'll have dealt with the underlying problem. Will you go over these, commit them to memory and also commit to using them to help you work through issues as they arise?"

Brenda nodded. "Yes. Absolutely. I don't want to fight with Andy, and I surely don't want to lose him."

"No, you don't. I don't know what it would do to either one of you. How do you feel when you say these things and you know you've hurt Andy?"

Brenda shook her head. "Oh, Philippa. I can't even tell you. I feel so awful. It's like I kicked Joel or something. He's been so good to me and then I do that to him. I feel like a horrible person. I know he took such a risk to be with me, because he's been hurt, and then I go and treat him like that. It would serve me right if he never spoke to me again."

"Then that should give you the incentive you need to stop doing this. This is a behavioral pattern I think you've been following for years. It's how you cope when life hands you something unexpected. But like I said: Andy won't bear with you forever. Eventually, he's going to get sick of you treating him like a doormat and he's going to leave. And you won't get him back. So go over your list and start acting on these strategies. If you do, it will help you in every area of your life, although I know that, right now, your relationship with Andy is what's getting most of your attention. And that's fine. Will you work on these?"

"Every day. I promise," Brenda answered as she took the printouts Philippa gave her.

"All right. As long as you're willing to work, I can keep helping you."

* * *

><p>On the way back to the department, Brenda answered her cell. It was her brother. "Oh, hey. Everything all right at home?" she said.<p>

"Just fine," her brother answered.

"So what's going on?"

"Did Mama and Daddy tell you Charlene's been accepted to UCLA?"

"No, they didn't! Why, that's wonderful!" Brenda exclaimed.

"Yeah, it is, especially since she got a nice scholarship. UCLA ain't cheap. But what I thought was, wouldn't it be nice if she could live with you and not in the dorm? Her mama and I would feel better about her being so far away from home if she was with family, and we know you'd look after her. She would be company for you."

Oh no. Not this. Anything but this. Why couldn't Charlie go to Georgia or Alabama, or even, may she not get struck by lightning, Auburn? Daddy would have a conniption fit, but at least at Auburn, Charlie would be fairly close to home. And not in Los Angeles.

"Brenda? Did you hear me?"

"Oh yes! Yes, I heard you. Traffic. I'm in the car. I just don't know. I'm thinking of selling the house and finding another place, and I'm not sure I'll be that settled. I'd hate for Charlie to get all comfortable and then me turn right around and move to another house." And if Andy moved in with her, Charlie's parents wouldn't be thrilled about their daughter living there. This was potentially, a gigantic mess, and one that could cause a family rift. _Watch your mouth, Brenda Leigh,_ she told herself.

"You've got some time to decide. School doesn't start until after Labor Day. But we would feel so much better knowing she's with family out there."'

"Oh, I understand. Well, let me think about it a little and I'll get back in touch."

"We're coming out for a campus visit next week. We can talk then."

Brenda wished Andy was in the car to say a few well-chosen words from his extensive, profane Yankee vocabulary. "How nice! Well, let me know your plans and we'll talk more. I'm getting to the parking deck now, so I need to go. Bye-bye!" she chirped and ended the call. When she got the car parked, she leaned her head on the steering wheel. "No! No! No! I don't need this right now! Why can't my family let me live my life! 'Company for me.' Oh, I've got all the company I need. I need to call Daddy. He's the only one who can talk sense to that hard-headed brother of mine."

When she got to the murder room, her anxious face said something was wrong and when she went into her office and closed the door, once again, the team looked at Andy. "Don't ask me! No idea what's going on with her. I'll find out, but I'm in the dark, too!" He _was_ in the dark. She had seemed cheerful enough when he dropped her off at the house this morning.

Andy kept an eye on Brenda as she dug in her candy drawer. Thirty minutes later, he said, "My God. That's three Ho-Hos so far. What the hell happened this afternoon?"

"You better find out," Provenza said.

Andy nodded and went to knock on her door. She motioned him inside. "Chief, what's up? Three Ho-Hos? That's a lot, even for you."

Brenda sighed and motioned to the file room. Andy followed her and closed the door.

"My brother called me. Charlie, you know, my niece, is planning to go to UCLA. They want her to live with _me_!"

"With you? Dorm not good enough for her?"

Brenda rolled her eyes. "Oh, my brother thinks he's being helpful. Said they would feel so much better about her being so far from home if she's with family. Said Charlie would be _company_ for me."

"Company." Andy shook his head.

"I know it. My brother insists on picturing me as the widow in deepest mourning. He probably thinks I'm supposed to be wearing all black like Scarlett O'Hara! Next thing you know, he'll be asking me if I had a mourning brooch made from Fritz's hair." At Andy's look of disgust, Brenda said, "Don't even ask. You wouldn't believe it."

Andy could see Brenda was beside herself with anxiety, so he did the only thing he could think of. He folded her into his arms and held her, one hand massaging the back of her neck, the other holding her close.

Brenda relaxed into his arms and held to him for dear life. He was always her safe harbor. "What in the world am I gonna do?"

"We'll figure it out, babe," he soothed her. Finally, he released her and said, "They're gonna be wondering what's going on in here. But we'll talk about it tonight, O.K.? And you need to make sure you talk to Philippa, too."

"I will. I see her again tomorrow morning. I'll tell you what we talked about tonight, too. Andy, I'm losing my mind. I know it."

He smiled at her. "Nah. Takes more than this. Go on back."

When he went back to the squad room, he said, "Charlie problems," and the crew nodded understandingly. They remembered what had happened when Brenda's wayward niece visited the first time. Gabriel had wormed it out of her, and had told Mike Tao, who told everyone else. Anything having to do with the Chief's family always made her anxious. Thankfully, the criminals in L.A. County obviously found other amusement, and they didn't catch a case.

* * *

><p>Andy sat on Brenda's sofa, Joel in his lap. The big marmalade tabby had taken a liking to him, and even though Andy would never admit it to his Jersey relations, he liked the cat, too. In fact, he liked cats in general. He knew his dad thought it was sissy to like cats, but Andy found their independence and quirks attractive. He liked an animal who came when it was called only if it felt like it. He admired the "screw you" attitude so many of them had. You didn't have to do anything to earn a dog's regard, but you had to work to get a cat to like you. Andy agreed with that philosophy. So it was that he and Joel had found they liked each other, and the cat was in Andy's lap about as often as Brenda's.<p>

Brenda was pacing and fretting. "I don't know what in the world to do, Andy. I know this is Linda's idea, and she talked Chris into it. And now he's got it in his head that this is the thing to do, it's gonna take an act of Congress to get him to change his mind."

"Must run in the family," Andy said dryly.

Brenda turned, an indignant look on her face. "Oh, hush! You're no help at all!" Andy just snickered in reply. She waved an impatient hand at him. "Seriously, Andy. I can't take care of Charlie! Her mama just wants her to live with me because she thinks living with a police officer is gonna make her behave herself. Didn't work before. Did I _tell_ you what she did?"

"I heard. Pot brownies." Andy shook his head. "Good thing that wasn't the month the LAPD or the FBI did random drug tests."

Brenda's eyes widened in horror. "Oh, my Lord. _That_ never even crossed my mind! I don't know why it didn't, but, oh, for heaven's sake! I am not that child's mama! Linda wants her to have a mama wherever she is, but that's not how life works! Maybe if I had children, I'd understand, but I can't think it's healthy to want to coddle a person like that. That's why she got into trouble at home to start with, is because Linda wanted to be her buddy and not her Mama. Even I have sense enough to know it doesn't work that way! She wants to be her friend, but can't let Charlie be herself. I love Charlie to pieces, but I don't need a teenager living with me! I have you, part-time and a cat, full-time. That's _enough_!"

"At least I clean up after myself," Andy said, a smile playing around his mouth.

"Yes, you do. Joel doesn't have thumbs, so he can't, but he's not a messy cat. Plus, I'm an adult woman! I don't really want to have to sneak around with the man in my life because of my niece! And Charlie's not stupid. If I spend the night with you at your place, it's not like it hides our relationship. And Chris and Linda both would have a fit at the thought of Charlie staying here and you spending the night with me 'without the benefit of clergy,' as Daddy would say." She flopped on to the sofa, spent. "I've had it with the whole bunch!" she said.

Andy looked at her and held out his arm so she could cuddle to his side. "You want advice, or just sympathy?"

"Both, please," she answered.

"O.K. I think it's damned presumptuous of your brother and his wife to just assume you'd be glad to not only take in an 18-year-old roommate, but expect you to be responsible for her. They're taking advantage of you, big-time, and that's not right. Having said that, Brenda, I know you have a terrible time saying 'no' to your family. I understand. Remember I told you about addicts learning to set boundaries?"

"Yeah."

"This is exactly what that means. You've got to draw the line with them, Brenda. You have to. Otherwise, they'll keep doing what they've been doing, because it gets results."

Brenda nodded. "You're right. You're absolutely right. Philippa has said the same thing to me before. But I don't want to cause a family rift."

"They'll get over it. I have a feeling your parents will back you up on this one. What do you think?"

"Probably. Daddy will, I know, even though it is Charlie, and he does dote on her. We always said if Charlie wanted to set the house on fire, he'd light the matches for her."

Andy chuckled at that and laughed in earnest when Brenda said, "I wish somebody _would _burn some of Mama's tacky Christmas decorations, though. In December, it looks like the house got attacked with a hot glue gun. But Daddy, I know, wouldn't want Charlie out here. He and Mama hate Los Angeles and I doubt they'd like the idea of her living here. Even with me. But Daddy also knows I need my space, and I don't need a teenager in the house."

"There's your angle, then. You'll have to rely on your folks to help you with this one. I know you don't want to deal with it, but this is one issue that isn't going away."

"Don't I know it? I know I need to get away from here, though. Didn't you say the Dodgers were in San Diego this weekend?"

"Yeah, so?"

"It's two hours. Let's drive down tomorrow evening, get a nice hotel room, you can go to the game Saturday and I'll do some shopping. We don't even have to come back until early Monday morning, if we don't want to. Chris, Linda and Charlie won't be here until Tuesday. David can come in and feed Joel." A thought struck her. "But, what about your friend who died? Are they having services this weekend?"

Andy shook his head. "No, he wanted to be cremated and they're just doing a private service for the family."

"I see. Well, I wanted you to go if you needed to."

"Thanks, babe. I called his wife today. She's doing about as well as you could expect her to be. So really, a weekend trip sounds good."

"All right. Which hotel, then?"

"How about a bed and breakfast instead of a hotel?" Andy said.

Brenda sighed. "Oh, that sounds wonderful! But which one?"

"Go get your laptop. We'll find one," he answered.

Brenda brought the computer and handed it to Andy, a doubtful look on her face. He looked online and found one he thought would be good. "Look. They have all this breakfast stuff, it's close to shopping and the rooms look great."

Brenda put on her glasses and peered at the screen. "If they have a vacancy. Is it too late to call?"

"Nope. Says they're open until 11." He took his cell and made the call. After a brief conversation, he gave his name and credit card number and hung up. "We're set. They had a last-minute cancellation. So you need to go in there and pack a few things. Would you rather stay here tonight and I'll pack in the morning, or what?"

Brenda thought. "I can give Joel some extra food and we can go on to your place tonight and you can pack. We can leave straight from work tomorrow, that way. Oh, Andy, I'm so glad you thought of a B and B. They're wonderful!"

He smiled at her. "I like them, too. Go get packed, babe."

Brenda kissed him quickly and then flew back to her room to get her clothes together.

* * *

><p>"I told David that, unless there was a bomb threat or the equivalent, not to call me," Brenda said the next evening as they started for San Diego. "Were you able to get a ticket to tomorrow's game?" she asked Andy.<p>

"Yeah, there were actually a few good seats left. Sometimes it's easier to get a good seat if you're just buying one and don't need two together, or something."

"I didn't think of that, but it makes sense," Brenda answered. She could see her phone lying quietly in her purse. "I don't want to hear that thing ring this weekend," she said.

Andy chuckled. "Me either. It's always nice to spend time with you when I'm not competing with a murder case," he answered.

Brenda laughed. "I know. I get entirely too focused. And we talked about that today, too."

"What did Philippa say about the whole Charlie situation?"

"Rolled her eyes and said I needed to tell Chris I'm not running a boarding house."

Andy snorted at that. "She's on the nose with that one."

"And, she said this trip was probably a good thing, that I needed to spend uninterrupted time with you."

He nodded. "Maybe I like her better than I thought I did."

Brenda grinned. "I keep telling you she likes you. And in case you're interested, she really chewed me out about the other night. She told me she couldn't believe you've put up with some of my garbage for as long as you have. She said you must really care about me. Which I knew, of course, but she reiterated it."

Andy fought to keep the smile from his face. "Well, that's something. Did she tell you what she wanted you to do?" He checked the mirrors and merged easily into the southbound traffic on the freeway.

"Yes, she did. She gave me a list of strategies to memorize. I've got the list right here in my purse. She said this is a control issue and I'm supposed to use these strategies to, well, learn to pick my battles, is the upshot of it."

"Everybody needs to learn to do that. I'm still working on that one, myself," he answered.

Brenda gazed at Andy's profile for a moment, as he drove. He glanced at her. "What is it?"

"Oh, nothing. Just you."

"What about me?"

She laughed. "You're so different when you're not at work. Anybody who just knew you from there wouldn't have any idea how, I don't know, _together_ you are when you're not working. You're so suspicious and touchy at work, but when you're not there, well, I don't know that you'll ever be easygoing or laid back, exactly, but you're a lot closer to being that way when you're not on the clock."

Andy shook his head. "Me? Together? Yeah, right. That'll be the day. I'd like to be together for one day, just to see how it feels."

Brenda laughed at that. She leaned back in the seat. "Mind if I nap? I'm a little tired."

"Sure, babe. Specially if you plan on keeping me up all night," he said.

Brenda's eyes were closed, but she smiled. "At least all night," she answered.

Andy snickered and kept driving.

When they found their B&B, they rang the doorbell and one of the innkeepers answered. They were greeted with the fragrance of fresh-baked cookies that immediately set Brenda's mouth to watering.

"Hello," the woman said. "Welcome to Roselands. We're so glad to have you here! I'll show you to your room first and then, if you like, you can come back in here for cocktail hour. Well, that's what we call it. We don't actually serve cocktails, but we do have snacks and drinks. I'm Marisa Harris. My husband, Rob, and I are the innkeepers. You were really lucky to get the Peace Rose room. It's the nicest one here. I think you'll like it." She showed them to the back of the house, and led them through an outside door. "It's a semi-detached apartment. I think it was meant to be a mother-in-law apartment or guest quarters or something along those lines. But we converted it to match the rest of the house. The main house was built in 1925, and much of the furnishings are original to it." Marisa unlocked the door to the apartment and showed them inside.

Brenda sighed happily. The place was beautiful. It had a comfortable sitting room and a separate kitchen, bedroom and bath with a garden tub. The furniture here was more of a country style, with cheerful chintz curtains and homey braided rugs on the shining hardwood floors. "This is so lovely!" she exclaimed and looked over at Andy, whose expression was self-satisfied. He had done well and was obviously pleased with himself.

She handed Andy the key. "I'll leave you to settle in. We'll have our snacks out in about twenty minutes, so please come back over to the main house." Marisa left with a smile.

Brenda took her weekender bag to the bedroom. "Oh, Andy! This is perfect! Now, just let me get changed into something comfy and we'll go see about those snacks."

"Those cookies, you mean," he answered, bringing his own duffle into the room and loosening his tie.

"That, too," she answered. She pulled out her favorite yoga pants and a pink T-shirt with a floral print.

Andy hadn't seen that top and when she put it on, he said, "That's your color, Brenda. That pink is beautiful on you."

She smiled at him. "You think so? Well, you have an eye for what looks good on a woman, so I'll take your word for it."

"You ought to," he answered, changing into jeans and a black polo shirt. "Now I feel better. That tie was driving me bananas," he said.

Brenda walked around the bed and kissed him. "I swear, you are sexy in whatever you've got on. Clothes look so good on you!"

He grinned and pulled her close. "You want cookies or me?"

She cocked her head. "Cookies now. You later." She pulled away, took Andy's hand and started leading him toward the door.

They went back into the main house and saw three other couples who were also guests, along with Marisa and a man who introduced himself as Rob, her husband.

Brenda was checking out the snacks and lifted the lid on a crock pot. "Ro-tel dip!" she exclaimed. "I love this stuff!"

Marisa laughed. "Everybody loves it. Yeah, it's Velveeta-based, and probably crammed with trans-fats, sodium and a dozen other horrible things, but it's one of the most popular things I make."

"I don't care about all that," Brenda said. "It's Ro-tel and that's good enough for me." She dipped up a liberal serving of the cheesy-tomato dip and got a large handful of tortilla chips.

"At least the chips are homemade," Marisa said.

Brenda happily loaded up her plate with snacks and parked on an overstuffed sofa. She was working her way through the chips and dip and Andy watched with amusement. "What?" she said, mouth full.

He grinned. "I guess you fidget away all the calories. If I ate that much, I'd weigh 300 pounds."

Brenda managed to swallow before she spoke again. "Can I help it if I have a crazy metabolism? It'll catch up with me one of these days and I'll be eating celery sticks to survive when I'm 70." She peered at his plate and pointed. "What's that?"

"Red pepper hummus. Pretty good. I'll leave the cheese dip for you."

"You're missing out. I need to get some cookies before they disappear." Brenda went in search of the cookies and came back with a plate full.

"Did you leave any for the rest of the guests?" Andy said.

"Oh, hush. Marisa made six dozen. She told me to take as many as I wanted."

"No one should ever tell you that about cookies," he answered.

Brenda made a face at him. "Well, I got enough for you, too."

Andy took two with a grin at her. "They're pretty good," he said.

Brenda tried one. "Mmm. Let's see. Chocolate chips, sunflower seeds, dried cranberries…"

"I call them my 'everything' cookies," Marisa said as she walked by where they sat.

"They're just delicious!" Brenda said.

"Thank you. Oh, since you all have the apartment, I wanted to let you know there's coffee, tea and homemade hot cocoa mix in the kitchen, along with bottled water in the fridge. And if you want to cook, please feel free. Just wash the dishes, is all I ask."

"We appreciate it, Marisa," Andy said. "What time is breakfast?"

"Early seating is at seven. Late seating is nine. Which one did you want?"

"Late, definitely," Andy answered.

"I'll make a note of it, then. Thanks!" she said and went to speak to her other guests.

Brenda sat back on the sofa, eating cookies in contentment. "Andy, this was such a good idea! I'm so glad you thought of this. What time is the game tomorrow?"

"Two o'clock."

"All right. I was just thinking about where I want to do some shopping. I'll ask Marisa what's around here."

* * *

><p>In their room, Andy was lying on the sofa, watching that evening's baseball game. Not surprisingly, the Dodgers weren't having much success. Brenda had disappeared into the bathroom and was, he supposed, having a long soak in the enormous tub. He looked around at the place and wondered, not for the first time, how a working-class Jersey cop ended up with a spitfire Southern belle like Brenda Leigh Johnson. He grinned. He knew his buddies back home would say he had gone soft and sold out by doing something like staying at a B&amp;B, but maturity, to say nothing of 15 years in recovery, had taught him that allowing his romantic side to come to the fore was almost always a good idea. And there was certainly considerable of the romantic in both the Celtic and Italian cultures, so it wasn't like it didn't come naturally to him.<p>

His maternal grandmother, his _Nonna_, had once told him in her heavily-accented English, that women needed romance in their lives. He would never forget it. He was 16, and taking Karen Collins, his first real girlfriend, to the junior prom. _Nonna_ had taken him aside before he left to go pick her up.

"Come, sit in my room," she had said. He sat on her bed and she sat next to him and took his hand. She gazed at him. "_Mi nipote_," My grandson, she said. "You are a man now. _Madonna_. When did you grow up?" She stroked his hair, then as dark as his eyes. "And so handsome. _Bellissimo_. Listen to your _Nonna_, now. Kindness to a woman is never a sign of weakness. It is a sign of great strength. A woman's life is hard. A man who shows her kindness, who is _romantico_, is a good man. I always want you to be a good man, _mi nipote_. Do you understand?"

Andy had nodded. "I understand, _Nonna_."

"Good. Do not let these young, ehh, _hoodlums_, tell you a real man treats a woman worse than a dog. Believe your _Nonna_. I know. Your _Nonno_, your grandfather, he brought me red roses, the flower of passion. We were very happy together. Kindness to a woman always brings great reward. Go to your dance, _mi nipote_, and remember what _Nonna_ told you. _Capisce_?"

"_Capisco, Nonna_," he had said and kissing her cheek, had gone to the prom.

Andy sat up on the sofa. He hadn't always been as kind to the women in his life as he could have been, which he deeply regretted. But he was determined to follow his grandmother's excellent advice where Brenda was concerned. He looked heavenward. "_Grazie, Nonna_," he murmured.

With that in mind, he turned off the television, got up from the sofa and started for the bathroom, shedding clothes as he went. He quietly opened the bathroom door and peeked inside. Brenda was reclining in the tub. She had an inflatable pillow behind her head, her eyes were closed and she looked supremely comfortable.

Andy went quietly to the tub and sat on the step. The lights were dim and he rested his elbows on the side of the tub and leaned so he could see her face. He was silent; he was just looking at her. He didn't really want to bother her. The times when he saw Brenda completely unguarded were few and far between, but now she was relaxed and Andy was loath to disturb her.

When he shifted his elbows, the soft noise made Brenda's eyes flutter open and she saw Andy, simply gazing at her. Some trick of the light darkened his eyes to onyx, even as a faint smile played around his mouth. Something akin to a spell hung in the room as their eyes locked, and Brenda couldn't bring herself to break it by saying anything.

Andy held out a hand, and Brenda placed hers in it. He gently pulled her up and forward. Reaching for a washcloth, he wet it and washed her back and neck. Her hair was in a messy pile, and he took the pins out, one by one, and ran his fingers through it to bring it cascading down to her shoulders. The tub had a sprayer and he took it and wet her hair, then put shampoo on it and lathered it as gently as if he were washing a baby's hair.

Brenda drew a ragged breath. Andy's hands in her hair were wonderful. Was there no end to the surprises with this man? He rinsed her hair, as gently as he had washed it and combed through it with his fingers, to detangle it. She smiled at him and crooked her finger at him, indicating he should join her. His shorts came off and he stepped into the warm water, where Brenda returned the favor of scrubbing his back and washing his hair. He brought her body against his and leaned back against the pillow, drawing her mouth down to his and kissing her. Through all this, neither had said a word. Brenda just knew the spell would break the second either one of them uttered a syllable, so she forced herself to silence, instead of asking the hundred questions she wanted to.

Andy's hands traced circles on her warm, wet skin, and he reveled in its satin feel under his palms, next to his body. He kept kissing her until they were both out of breath. So, he shifted from underneath her, stood up and got out of the tub. He handed Brenda out as well, and they dried each other with big, fluffy towels. Brenda tucked her towel around her breasts and Andy ushered her to the mirror with its vanity seat. As she sat down, he took her hairbrush and comb and combed out her hair, never pulling through so much as a tangle. This finished, he placed small kisses down her neck and when she stood, he untucked her towel and it fell to the floor.

He picked her up and kissed her and Brenda twined her arms around his neck as he carried her to the bed. She couldn't believe this whole time, they hadn't said a word, but words weren't really necessary. As Andy lay beside her, and she looked into his eyes again, there was an honesty between them – something she had once heard called "soul nakedness." It was almost uncomfortable, but not for the world would Brenda have spoiled it.

Andy kissed Brenda's soft, fragrant skin, and spent a long while doing it. Maybe for the first time since they had been together, Brenda wasn't trying to speed things up. She was content to allow him to set the pace. He continued to kiss her, leaving a trail of fire behind wherever his mouth touched her. He was paying sweet homage to her body with his hands and his lips, never trying to force any feelings, just enjoying her taste and feel. He could hear her soft sighs as he kissed her and when her hands ran across and down his chest, he closed his eyes in pleasure. When she touched him, he shivered and she smiled. When he touched her, he felt her readiness for him. He covered her breasts with his mouth and she moaned in response. He kept up that sweet torment as he stroked her and when he finally eased inside her body, she arched her hips up to his and he moved with her, but slowly. He was looking for quality here, and to please her.

As they moved together, still without words, with only wordless sounds, Brenda clung to Andy, feeling something knit together in her soul that had been fragmented for she didn't know how long. He quickened his movements a little, and Brenda could feel her impending climax, but this one wrapped around her slowly, then crashed over her, robbing her of breath and voice as she held on to Andy, feeling his body melding with hers, his short cries signaling his orgasm. Somehow, he managed to roll them to their sides, so he could keep Brenda in his arms and his first words to her since she had gone to bathe were barely whispered: "I love you."

The feel of Andy's legs twined around hers, being in his arms, his warm body relaxing next to hers, his breathing returning to normal – it all combined for sensory overload for Brenda and she managed to sigh, "Andy, this was wonderful. _You're _wonderful. I love you, too."

Just before he dropped off, Andy wondered if they would make even the late breakfast seating the next morning.


	19. Chapter 19: Murder Most Foul

**A/N:** I can't quite believe I got another chapter up this soon! The muse must be feeling particularly accommodating. LOL. A little murder, anyone? Please R&R! And thank you to all those who have reviewed until now. I truly appreciate each of you!

_Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer."_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 19: Murder Most Foul<strong>

"Two bodies this time, Chief," Provenza said when he hung up the phone.

Brenda looked at the clock. "Oh, for heaven's sake! I said I'd pick up Charlie and her family from the airport in an hour and a half! Well, let's roll out and get started, and I'll go to the airport from the crime scene. Any suspects?"

"Uniforms are detaining the wife," Provenza answered.

"All right. Let's go, then."

The crime scene was at a home in an ordinary suburban neighborhood. As Brenda and the crew entered the house, she found the SID officer. "Catch me up, please."

He shrugged. "Pretty straightforward. Two bodies, one male, one female, both shot execution-style in the back of the head, with a nine millimeter handgun. Casings are on the floor. Time of death, I'd say, two to three hours."

"Thank you," she answered and turned to one of the uniformed officers. "Corporal, what can you tell me?"

He shrugged. "We got a 911 call about 30 minutes ago from this residence from Beverly Hall, wife of the deceased male, Greg Hall. She said she came home for lunch and found two dead bodies. We have her detained."

"Do we know who the female is?"

"Her ID badge says Dani DeCola. Apparently, she, Mr. Hall and Mrs. Hall all work for the same software company."

Brenda tapped an impatient toe. "Thank you, Corporal." She turned to the team. "Detective Gabriel, I want financials and backgrounds on the victims and Mrs. Hall. Lieutenant Tao, see what you can find out from the casings and hurry things along in ballistics, and get their phone records. Also, look at any computers here in the house for e-mails, chat logs, you know. Detective Sanchez, go to their place of employment, this 'Cygnet Software,' and talk to their co-workers. See if Mr. Hall and Ms. DeCola were more than just colleagues. Lieutenants Provenza and Flynn, escort Mrs. Hall to the department and see what, if anything, she's willing to tell you. I've got to get to the airport."

Affirmatives followed her orders and Andy and Provenza went outside to find Beverly Hall sitting in one of the police cars. Provenza Mirandized her and Andy escorted her to his car. The woman was subdued and Andy looked at her. He'd seen the bodies. Her husband was kind of an average-looking shlub. The DeCola chick was a knockout. Beverly was rather average-looking herself, a little overweight, sort of mousy. However, behind her glasses, her eyes registered a sharp intelligence and Andy thought that maybe, with some nice make-up and better clothes, she'd be an attractive woman, if not a bombshell.

In the interview room, her only statement was that she didn't kill the victims.

"Then you can speak to Chief Johnson when she comes back," Andy said.

"Fine. I suppose I can't have my Kindle, but if it's going to be a while, could you bring me a magazine or something to read, please?" Her accent was distinctly Southern, although not like the Chief's.

"I've got a book of crossword puzzles," Provenza said.

"That would be fine. Thank you so much," she answered.

Andy took the book and a pencil to her. She thanked him as courteously as if she were at some grand soiree and, starting with page one, began on the crosswords.

Brenda paced impatiently in the arrivals area. The board said her family's flight was on time, but so far, she hadn't seen or heard a thing to indicate it had landed. Finally, nearly 30 minutes after the flight was supposed to arrive, she heard an announcement that it had landed. Still, it was nearly another 30 minutes later when she finally saw her brother and his family coming down the escalator. It was about time! She had a double murder and a suspect in the interview room. She needed to get back.

Following close behind Chris, Linda and Charlie were, oh Lord, Clay and Willie Rae. What were her parents doing here? Well, maybe it was a blessing in disguise. Maybe her daddy could help talk sense into her brother. Brenda contemplated moving to Andy's place for the week, and just letting her parents have her house. It was beyond tempting.

Still, she pasted a large smile on her face and said, "Hey, ya'll! So good to see you. Did you have a nice flight?"

"Depends on what you call 'nice,'" Clay growled. "We were an hour late taking off in Atlanta because of a severe thunderstorm warning. We got here all right, so I guess it was nice."

Brenda snickered. "I'm glad you're all fine, Daddy," she said. At least she could be sincere about that part. "I hate to tell you, but I'm going to have to take you to your hotel and leave. We caught a double murder just about noon, so I have to be there, at least this afternoon."

Clay rolled his eyes. "Some things never change," he said.

"Oh, Clay, hush. It is her job, after all. And she didn't even know we were comin' until we got here!" Willie Rae exclaimed.

Brenda turned to Charlie. "Charlie, I declare, you get prettier every time I see you! Those boys at UCLA aren't gonna know what hit them when you get to campus! You'll have to carry a stick to keep them away!"

Charlie actually hugged her aunt and grinned. "Thanks, Aunt Brenda. How are you doing?"

"Pretty well. I have my days, you know, like everybody does, but I'm fine."

* * *

><p>Brenda dropped her family off at their hotel and, promising to be back in time for dinner at eight, left, heaving a massive sigh of relief. When she got back to the murder room, she said, "All right. Where are we?"<p>

"Mrs. Hall is in interview one with my crossword puzzle book. She says she didn't do it," Provenza said.

David raised his hand. "Chief, the Halls' financials are pretty ordinary, up until the last three months. Then, there are a lot of charges to florists and places like Victoria's Secret."

"Is that so? Well, I see what this is shaping up to be, at least partly. Ballistics, Lieutenant Tao?"

"The gun used in this shooting hasn't been used in any other crime in our database. Right now, that's about all we know."

"Hmm. Does Mrs. Hall own a handgun, or has she applied for a permit recently?"

"Negative, Chief. Also, SID said her hands were negative for gunshot residue."

"That's what gloves are for," Brenda replied. "Detective Sanchez?"

He shrugged. "Everybody at Cygnet who worked with our vics and suspect liked Beverly Hall. Said she's good at her job and easy to work with. The woman who works next to Mrs. Hall said she knew that the two vics were having an affair, that Beverly had told her they were. She said Dani DeCola was a prima donna and had no idea what she was doing, and that Greg Hall was a complete nerd and she couldn't understand why Ms. DeCola would be interested in him."

"Bet I know why he was interested in _her_," Andy cracked. Sanchez chuckled in response.

"That's enough, Lieutenant," Brenda snapped.

"Ah, c'mon Chief. This Dani DeCola? She's every nerd's fantasy. She looks way too much like my second ex for me to get cooked up over her, but Greg Hall? Man oh, man. I know when she crooked her finger at him, he nearly fell over. So Mrs. Hall's co-worker is right. Why was she interested in him? Woman like that?"

"She's married," said David.

"Oh really?" said Andy. "Who to?"

He gave a brief chuckle. "Heard of Kyle Weston? You know of Weston, Shapiro and Gable? Investment lawyers? He's Weston."

"Wow," Andy answered.

Brenda frowned at him. "Why 'wow,' Lieutenant?"

"Ever seen Kyle Weston? Saw him a couple of times when I was in Hollywood. He's like, I dunno, the George Clooney of L.A. attorneys. Good-lookin' guy. Works out. Money out the wazoo. And Dani DeCola lays it out for Greg Hall? I mean, it's not like she even has to work or anything. She doesn't need the money. Chief, that is just weird."

"Yeah, and it just gave us another suspect. Detective Gabriel, would you contact Mr. Weston's office and invite him down here for a chat? Be nice. We don't need another lawsuit."

"On it, Chief."

"Well, let me go talk to Mrs. Hall and see what she has to tell me."

"Your personnel file says you're from Nashville. How did you get here?" Brenda asked the woman, after introducing herself.

"I met Greg at Vanderbilt. He was offered a job at Cygnet, and I managed to get on there, as well."

"What do you do there? What did he do?"

"I'm a technical writer and I also write the copy for their press kits and news releases. Greg was a software engineer."

"Hmm. That's interesting. I thought Dani DeCola was their PR rep."

Beverly emitted a short bark of laughter. "Yeah. I mean, who's gonna ask _me_ to stand up and represent the company? I wrote the press material. She read it."

"That must have stung," Brenda said.

"All my life, I've written the papers and other people got credit for them. Eventually, you get used to it. I was well paid."

Brenda looked at Beverly Hall. She had the feeling she was in the presence of someone whose mind was as keen as her own. "And your husband was having an affair with that woman. You must have been enraged when you found out."

Beverly gave a wry grin. "Chief Johnson, since you're obviously from the South, like me, I'm betting you've heard the song 'Jolene' by Dolly Parton, right?"

Brenda nodded. "Sure. And you can call me Brenda."

"Thanks, Brenda," Beverly said. "So you know how the song goes. You know, 'Please don't take my man. Please don't take him just because you can.' Well, that was Dani DeCola. My God, even her name is a complete gimmick. Anyway, she's Jolene. Tall, slender, beautiful blonde hair, flashing green eyes, everything. I'm an honest woman. She's gorgeous. Now, gorgeous like one of those poison dart frogs, and just as venomous. I know that in this world, I can't compete with a woman like her. I'm short, dumpy and plain. I haven't eaten over a thousand calories a day in ten years, but it hasn't done much good. And I'm a geek. I know it. My claim to fame is my brain, Brenda. It's what attracted Greg to me. But Dani knew she could never compete with me in the intelligence department and even though I was never a threat to her in any other way, she had to show me that I couldn't keep a man. She had to have Greg, too. She didn't really want him, or respect him. She didn't even like him. And she got all the credit and the kudos for her media presentations. But she had to put me in my place. As if I didn't know my place very well already." Beverly shook her head.

Even though Beverly Hall was a murder suspect, Brenda's heart ached for her. No woman should have to go through what this woman had. "Beverly, I have to say it. You had plenty of motive to kill them both. But I'm not sure that a jury of twelve women wouldn't say it was justifiable homicide."

That got a chuckle from the woman. "Indeed. But like you, Brenda, I'm a Southern woman. Killing that piece of trash is beneath what little dignity I have left. And if my husband wanted that –that _whore_, if he was too stupid to see she didn't give a rip for him, then he was welcome to her. He was certainly not worth a needle in my arm, under any circumstances. I'd have killed to protect him, because that's how we do things, you know. But kill him because he took up with a tacky, uneducated, inarticulate, worthless baggage with not even the morals of an alley cat? And couldn't see she had no real interest in him? Risk the death penalty or life in prison for _that_? No."

In spite of herself, Brenda found herself liking Beverly Hall very much. She admired her grit and fire.

In the electronics room, Andy felt the same way about the woman. He felt tremendous pity for her, but she had the same strength he loved in Brenda. Steel magnolias, both of them. And he believed her. He thought she was telling the complete truth. He got the impression Brenda felt the same way.

"So why would she cheat on her husband? It's my understanding he's a handsome, wealthy man."

"Yeah. And he's a total prick. But mostly, it's because Dani had to have the complete admiration of every man she met. She was completely arrogant and narcissistic, but also utterly insecure. It was actually sort of pitiful. She had to have men falling at her feet to feel any self worth. And normally, I'd have been totally beneath her notice, but our boss congratulated me on my work on a new press kit, in her hearing. She could not stand the thought of me receiving any recognition for anything she was connected with."

Brenda nodded. "I understand. But you just lost your husband. I have to tell you it doesn't look good for you to show so little grief."

"Point taken. So here's the deal. I believe in God, Brenda. I also believe we're free moral agents and we live in a world where we have to deal with the consequences of our choices. She made the decision to seduce my husband. He made the decision to have an affair with her. I think it's painfully obvious their untimely deaths are the result of those choices. As far as I'm concerned, it's divine justice, and richly deserved. She could have had anyone she wanted, but she took my husband. And he went along with it. We had a pretty good marriage. And now, I'll probably die single and likely, alone. Men my age want women who look like you, if you'll pardon me for saying so. They're not interested in women who look like me. That's the unvarnished truth, ugly as it is. But I'm a pragmatic woman. It's easier to deal with the truth when you look it in the eye."

"My God. How sad," Andy said, as he watched the interview. Mike Tao shook his head, suddenly extra grateful for his wife, who loved him, geekiness and all.

"Well, Beverly, can you tell me what you did today?"

"Got up about six. I left for work about seven, arrived about seven-thirty. I clocked out at noon and went to the supermarket and got home about two-thirty. You can check my whereabouts at work on our office cameras, and I have the receipt from the supermarket in my purse."

"Well, as soon as we can confirm that, I see no reason to hold you any longer," Brenda said.

"Thank you. I do have some arrangements to make, as you may imagine."

"But tell me, Beverly: how do you think your husband and Ms. DeCola ended up at your home? Did they show up for work this morning?"

"Yes, they were both there. I suspect they took a long lunch, if you know what I mean. It was much safer to have their little assignations at our home than at hers," Beverly explained.

"Safer?" Brenda queried.

"I believe I mentioned Kyle Weston is a prick? He is. I wouldn't put it past him to use his wife for a punching bag." She picked up the crossword book. "Please return this to Lieutenant Provenza with my apologies. I think I finished all of the puzzles but the last two or three. But thank him. It helped pass the time."

"I will. I will, Beverly. It shouldn't be too long before you're released." Brenda left the room.

Andy met her in the hallway. "Well, we know she didn't do it," he said.

"We do. What about Ms. DeCola's husband, though?"

Andy shrugged. "Yeah, it's possible. Huge risk, though, for somebody in his position. Maybe he had it done? It looked kind of like a professional hit."

"That's one scenario. I still want to talk to Kyle Weston, though."

"Absolutely."

Brenda checked her watch. "Well, it's only six. I've still got some time." She sighed. "Andy, Mama and Daddy came with Charlie and her parents. We're having dinner at eight. Do you want to come?"

He grinned at her. "Do you want me there? I'm sure they want to discuss family concerns."

"Not in a restaurant, they don't. And yes, I want you there. I can use the moral support."

"We'll leave from here, then. Are Clay and Willie Rae staying with you?"

"I don't really know for sure. I know they'll be at the hotel tonight. I hope that's where they're staying, as awful as it sounds."

Andy chuckled. "It's not awful. Maybe I should get Provenza to go, too. He loves to flirt with your mom, and that irritates the crap out of your dad."

Brenda elbowed him. "Hush! You're awful, you know that?"

"Seems like I've heard that said once or twice before," he dryly replied.

Brenda went into her office, but her exclamation brought the squad running in. Andy got there first and found Brenda standing with an index card in her hand.

"What's the matter? Are you all right?" he said.

"Yes, yes. I'm fine. Is Beverly Hall still in the building?"

"Still in interview one, Chief," Tao said.

"Well that eliminates her, then." Brenda put the card on her desk so the squad could see it. In block print were three words: "I killed them."

"Detective Gabriel, get this to forensics and check for anything that might help us identify who sent this. Lieutenant Tao, ask Buzz if his cameras might have caught who slid this under the back door of my office."

The two men disappeared, and Andy went around to that door to Brenda's office and looked around carefully to see if the person left anything behind besides the note. Well, that was enough, as far as he was concerned. Brenda and Joel were moving in with him until they found out who left that card. He would be damned if another incident occurred like the ones they had with Croelick showing up inside Brenda's home.

Buzz came to Brenda's office. "Chief, I'm sorry, but I didn't have those cameras turned on in the back hallway. I'm so sorry."

"That's all right, Buzz," she said. "How could we have predicted this? Keep them on until we catch this guy though, how about it?"

"Sure, Chief."

"Thank you, Buzz," she said and sat down.

Andy came back into her office. "Buzz have the footage?"

"Cameras were turned off. But surely someone saw something. I guess we can interview the people down front to check and see if they noticed anyone acting strangely."

"As opposed to the two hundred other people acting strangely who come in through here?"

"You may have a point. We'll have to see."

Andy looked at his watch. "We do need to go on if we're gonna make it to dinner. Nothing much you can do here, anyway. Provenza already said he'd take Mrs. Hall to a friend's house, and would have a uniform drive by every 15 minutes."

"All right. Thanks, Andy. Let me get changed. I left something I bought in San Diego in the car, just in case I needed it. I brought it up earlier."

He raised his eyebrows. "Lookin' forward to seeing it," he said with a roguish grin.

* * *

><p>Andy waited patiently at his desk. Brenda came out of her office wearing a midnight-blue dress that made Andy a little light-headed looking at it.<p>

The dress hugged every curve, without being too snug, and the skirt grazed her kneecaps. It had three-quarter length sleeves and a neckline that almost came off her shoulders. Being a man, Andy immediately wondered what kind of bra she was wearing with it, and he intended to find out – eventually. She had put her hair up and wore the pearl drop earrings Andy had bought her for her birthday.

"Well?" she said.

He grinned. "You are a solid knockout, babe. That dress is nothin' but an invitation. You know that, don't you?"

A feline smile appeared on Brenda's face, but she said, sweetly, "An invitation to what, Lieutenant?

Andy cleared his throat. "If we weren't on a time crunch, I'd show you right here," he said.

"I'll keep that in mind," she answered.

When they got to the restaurant, Andy said, "Where's your phone?"

"In my purse, of course. Why?"

"Put it in the glove compartment. You don't need to get disturbed this evening. You'll jump at the chance to leave if somebody calls."

"Oh Andy, really! As if I'm not capable of determining whether I need to leave or not."

He turned one of those looks on her that made her wonder if he could read her mind. "Brenda, c'mon. We've both been working these murders since this afternoon. A couple of hours off won't make any difference, all right? We're not gonna get Weston in the box before morning, and it'll take at least that long for the front door videos to be processed. So leave your phone, and the murder, in the car, all right? I'll leave my phone, too. Good faith." He produced his phone and put it in the glove compartment.

Brenda sighed. "Oh, all right. But if I miss something, it's your fault!"

"I'll be glad to take the blame. Put your other drug of choice in there, all right?"

"I am _not_ addicted to my phone, Andrew Flynn!"

He laughed. "Ask Philippa if you are or not. In it goes."

Brenda glared at him, but placed her phone next to his. Andy closed the door to the box and said, "Now let's go eat, all right? I'm hungry and I know you are."

"O.K." They got out of the car and he locked the doors. She felt naked without her phone as they walked into the restaurant, Andy's hand lightly on her elbow. Brenda gave her family's name and the maitre'd showed them to their table.

Willie Rae saw them and said quietly to Clay, "I suppose you were right, Clay. She looks – radiantly happy with him."

"Once in a great while, I know what I'm talkin' about," he answered and greeted his daughter. "You look beautiful, sweetie," he said and shook hands with Andy. "Good to see you again, Andy. Everything goin' all right?"

Andy took his meaning exactly. "Ups and downs. You know how it is."

That prompted one of Clay's raspy chuckles. "Indeed I do, Lieutenant."

Andy spoke to Willie Rae and Brenda introduced him to her brother and his wife. "Andy, this is my brother, Chris, and his wife Linda. I think you remember my niece, Charlie. This is Lieutenant Andy Flynn."

"I do remember you, Charlie. Nice to see you again. Good to meet you Chris, Linda," he said, shaking hands with them.

"Nice to meet you, too," Chris said.

Brenda glanced at Linda. She was staring frankly open-mouthed at Andy. Brenda recalled she had done the same thing with Fritz, as though she couldn't quite believe how Brenda Leigh Johnson could possibly snag someone who looked that good.

Charlie was thinking along the same lines, about Brenda's good-looking men friends, anyway. She always thought Fritz was so cute, and now Lieutenant Flynn. She remembered seeing him in the murder room, usually cracking wise with Lieutenant Provenza. She remembered he always looked so put together. But she couldn't believe her Aunt Brenda was dating so soon after Fritz's death. And there was no doubt in her mind they were dating.

Willie Rae reached over to pat Andy's hand. "How have you been, Andy? We think about all of you on Brenda's squad all the time. We pray for you, too."

"I've been good, Willie Rae. And thanks for the prayers. We can always use them," he said, smiling warmly at her.

Louis Provenza's extravagant kindness always tickled Willie Rae, but the twinkle in Andy's dark eyes set her 70-plus heart fluttering in a way it hadn't since – well, in a long time. She understood why Brenda couldn't stay away from him.

Once everyone had ordered, Chris looked over at Brenda. "Well, it's good to see you. We're going to the UCLA campus tomorrow for the welcome orientation for incoming freshmen."

Brenda smiled. "That's always so exciting! I just can't believe you're getting ready to start college, Charlie. Time does get on by."

"I guess so, Aunt Brenda." She looked at Andy. "So, Lieutenant Flynn, what do you do in your division?" Her tone was sarcastic.

Chris rolled his eyes and Linda said, "Really Charlie. Your lack of tact..."

"I do whatever Chief Johnson here needs me to do. I run background checks, interview witnesses and suspects, shoot the bad guys occasionally. Whatever."

Clay hid a smile behind his napkin and Brenda said, "I couldn't get along without my lieutenants on my squad, Charlie! Andy Flynn can spot a line of – garbage – from a mile away, so you'd better behave yourself, child!"

"No offense, Aunt Brenda," Charlie answered, sitting back.

"How long have you and Brenda worked together?" Linda asked.

"About six years," Andy answered.

"That long?"

"Yep. I was in Robbery/Homicide before I transferred to Major Crimes. Well, it was Priority Homicide then."

"Brenda," Willie Rae asked. "How is your friend Sharon?"

"My f-friend, Sharon?" Brenda squeaked. "Oh, she's fine. Just fine!"

Andy worked hard to restrain a laugh and said, "Captain Raydor's seeing one of the lieutenants in Homicide. I think it's going pretty well."

"Oh, that's so nice!" Willie Rae exclaimed. "She was so sweet to me at Christmas and helped me so much!"

"That was when you all came back to L.A. in RV, right?" Chris said. "I heard that was one more trip."

Andy rolled his eyes. "You have no idea," he said.

"Lieutenant, what kind of ring is that you're wearing?" Charlie said.

Andy grinned at her and handed her the ring. "Ten years in AA," he answered. "Well, 15 years, now. But that's my 10-year ring."

Charlie looked at it and gave it back to him. "Uncle Fritz was in AA, too, wasn't he?"

Brenda nodded. "Yes he was, Charlie. He went to rehab and then got in the program."

"Did _you_ go to rehab, Lieutenant?" Charlie asked.

Another round of eye-rolling from her parents followed this statement, but Andy just laughed. "Nope. I just started going to meetings and decided that's what I needed to be doing. So, I go to my meetings and work my program."

Charlie raised an eyebrow in a way that reminded Andy of her aunt. "Oh. Well, Aunt Brenda, when did you find out about him being in AA?"

Brenda looked at Andy and he winked at her. Clearly, he had expected this, so he wasn't getting ruffled. "I don't remember exactly, Charlie, but it's been several years." She stood. "I need to visit the ladies room before our dinner arrives. Charlie, why don't you come with me?"

"I'm fine, Aunt Brenda," the girl said.

"Oh, I _insist_," her aunt said, too sweetly.

Reluctantly, Charlie got up and excused herself. She followed Brenda to the ladies room. In the lounge area, Brenda turned to her niece with an intimidating glare.

"Don't even say anything, Aunt Brenda. 'Leave Andy alone.' Got it."

"That's only part of what I had in my mind," Brenda said. "Charlie, I know you loved Fritz. So did I. You think I didn't grieve when he was killed? Having said that, why don't you ask your Granddaddy about how Andy has supported me through this? Not only is he a loyal member of my team, he is probably the best friend I've got, and before I became chief of this division, I didn't have many friends. So you need to chill out about Andy. I'm not asking you to love him like you loved Fritz. But I am _demanding_ you exercise the manners you were raised with, however, about how to act around company! You're 18, now, and you're an adult in the eyes of the law. So you need to act like an adult and not a snotty teenager. I'd have thought you'd have gotten all that out of your system by now."

Charlie was taken aback. Her aunt wasn't speaking to her as a child, but as a grown woman. She chewed on her lower lip. She nodded. "O.K. I'll lay off."

"Thank you, Charlie. I appreciate it. I think we need to go back, now."

Charlie was fairly subdued for the rest of the meal, for which Brenda and her parents especially, were thankful. Andy contented himself with grinning wickedly at Charlie, which irritated her, and was, of course, exactly why he did it.

As the group exited the restaurant, Willie Rae took Andy's arm. "I want to apologize for that granddaughter of mine. I promise she knows how to act. She's been taught."

Andy smiled at the woman. "It's all right, Willie Rae. I understand, really."

Willie Rae shook her head. "If Brenda Leigh lets you get away, she's not as smart as I always thought she was."

"Thanks," Andy said. "That means a lot, coming from her mom."

"I'll be honest with you, Andy. I thought Clay was just seeing things when he said you loved Brenda Leigh, but I have to say he was right. He said she would be happy with you and he was right about that, too."

"Well, you know, men are right occasionally. Doesn't happen often, I realize," he teased gently.

Willie Rae gave Andy's arm a playful slap. "Oh, hush. I'll have to listen to Clay crow about it from now on. I don't need to hear it from you, too. So tell me. How is Lieutenant Provenza getting along?"

"Oh, as well as ever. He was hoping you'd drop by the murder room while you're here. He does love to see you."

She chuckled. "He does go out of his way to be nice to me. It drives Clay up the wall, but I know better than to take Lieutenant Provenza seriously."

"Willie Rae, you're a wise woman," Andy said.

"Thank you, Andy. So, what are your feelings about Charlie living with Brenda Leigh?"

"Now Willie Rae, that's a family matter. Brenda is going to have hash that out with them. I can't stick my nose in it."

Willie Rae laughed. "Smart course of action. But I'm not askin' you to stick your handsome nose into anything. I'm just asking your personal feelings."

"Honestly?"

"Of course!"

"I think it's a terrible idea, and it really irritates me that her brother and sister-in-law are putting her into the position of having to be the bad guy. No offense."

"Oh, none taken, Andy. Chris has always had the idea that, being the oldest, he can order his siblings' lives to his liking, and they're just supposed to smile, go along with it, and not complain, no matter how much he imposes on them. And he thinks he knows exactly what's best for them."

"So he's got this idea that Brenda's lonely and needs company?"

Willie Rae nodded. "Mmm-hmm. But mostly, he wants Charlie to have constant supervision, and since Brenda's out here, why she can do that. No matter how much it interferes with her professional and personal life. I'm afraid Linda has been a terrible influence on him."

Andy chuckled, as Brenda came up to them. "Now, what kind of secret, high-level conference am I interrupting?" she said.

Her mother smiled at her. "We're doing some tactical planning, is all. You'll find out more, later. Did I tell you how much I like that dress, Brenda Leigh? It looks lovely on you!"

"Aww, thank you, Mama. I bought it this weekend in San Diego. I'm glad you like it."

"And I don't believe I've seen those earrings before, either."

Brenda grinned. "They were a birthday gift, Mama." She pointed at Andy.

"Really? Well, what excellent taste you have, Andy!" Willie Rae exclaimed.

"Thank you," he answered.

"You're welcome. Now Brenda Leigh, you'd better find something nice for Andy's birthday, after he got you those earrings!"

"I've got till the middle of September, Mama. I'll find something."

"If you don't, I will," her mother replied.

"Yes ma'am," Brenda said. She and Andy said good-night to her family, and Brenda collapsed into Andy's car with a sigh of relief. "Oh thank goodness that's over! I wanted to _murder_ Charlie! I'm so sorry."

Andy laughed. "It's O.K. She's still a kid in a lot of ways. Your mom is on your side in this, though. She's not real crazy about the idea of Charlie living with you, either."

"Well thank heavens for that!" Brenda exclaimed and opened the glove compartment. She handed Andy his phone and took hers out and immediately checked it for messages or missed calls. Nothing. She was almost disappointed.

"You got any clean clothes at my place?" Andy asked.

Brenda thought about it. "Yeah. Why?"

"I said don't order dessert for a reason," he answered.

Brenda's face lit up. "What have you got?"

"It's a surprise. But I'm pretty sure you'll like it. There's a woman from North Carolina who's opened a bakery close to my apartment. She specializes in Southern goodies."

"Ooooohh!" Brenda squealed. "Oh, what could it be? I can think of a thousand things I haven't had since I don't know when!"

He chuckled. "You'll find out when we get there."

When they arrived, Brenda was nearly dancing with impatience. Andy wondered if she ever felt like that about him. Before he let her have the dessert, he started a pot of coffee.

"Come on, Andy! What in the world did you get?"

"Sugar addict," he said, and presented her with a white box, a fork and three paper napkins. When it came to sweets, Brenda was a messy eater.

She sat on the sofa and nearly ripped open the box. Inside was, quite possibly, the largest piece of red velvet cake she had ever seen. The cream cheese frosting looked two inches thick, and it was studded with pecans. "Oh my Lord!" she exclaimed. "Red velvet cake! Have you ever seen such frosting in your _life_? Andy, thank you so much. This looks soooo divine!" She attacked the cake with her fork and took a gigantic bite. She nearly swooned. "This is absolutely delicious!" she mumbled, her mouth full. "Here, have a bite."

"I don't think I'd eat anything that color," he said.

She swallowed. "Oh, pooh. A little red food coloring never hurt anybody. Well, as long as you're not allergic, anyway. Come on, take a bite."

"O.K.," he acquiesced and Brenda gave him a bite of the cake. He ate it and looked at her strangely. "It's chocolate?"

"Yeah! So wonderful! What do you think?"

He shook his head. "It's sweet, that's for sure. All right, I guess, but wow! Is it ever sweet."

"That's how it's supposed to be," Brenda said, taking another bite and licking the frosting from the fork.

"Fine. I got it for you."

"Mmmm," she sighed. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Want some coffee?" At her nod, he brought back two cups and handed her one. "So what are you going to tell Chris and Linda about Charlie?"

Brenda sipped her coffee and cocked her head. "I don't know, exactly. Some form of 'no.' I just haven't figured out how to word it, yet."

Andy nodded. "It's never easy."

"I guess not." She looked keenly at him. "Andy, when you're not in the office, you change. What happens to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're different. In a good way. You're not as sarcastic, or as, I don't know, angry. Well, maybe not angry. Maybe less intense, but that's not really what I want to say, either. You just change. Maybe you let your guard down. That's it! You let your guard down. Until we got – closer – I'd look at you in the murder room and wonder what in the world you were thinking. It was like you were behind this wall. But when it's just us, that wall disappears."

"If you tell me I'm sensitive, I'm spanking you for real," he answered.

"You know you are, though. You're a marshmallow." At his look, she hastened to add, "But I like marshmallows! All sweet inside. Now, you can sure be tough, but mostly, you're just sweet and cuddly."

"_Cuddly_? Oh, my God. Now I sound like a teddy bear," Andy said, aggrieved.

Brenda put the cake down and rose to her knees on the sofa and put her arms around him. "You are. You're my personal teddy bear. I can't think of anything else I'd rather take to bed." She kissed his cheek.

"You left frosting on my face, didn't you?" he responded.

"Well, yes, but I can take care of that." She licked the frosting off his skin. It made him feel a little dizzy.

"So I'm your teddy bear, and all you can talk about is how I'm the most annoying man in the world. What's that?"

Brenda giggled against his skin. "You're both. But when we're alone, mostly, you're the teddy bear."

He rolled his eyes. "Swear to God, Brenda. Some days I totally do not understand you."

She laughed again as she nuzzled his neck. "Correction, sugar. You know me better than anyone else. You always see right through me." She moved to sit on his knee, her knee between his legs. "Are you ever gonna show me how well you like this dress?"

Now this part of Brenda, Andy understood very well. Provenza had mentioned once that some girlfriend of his told him that women peaked sexually after 40. Well, Brenda was living proof of that. Andy figured he might as well enjoy it before he starting having to take the pills that got his partner into trouble when they got mixed up with the flight attendants. He didn't want to go there, even in his mind, though, so he distracted himself by finding the zipper to Brenda's dress and slowly pulling it down. His hands touched her warm skin and he pulled the dress down from her shoulders. She wore some sort of strapless bra thing that barely covered her breasts, but it explained how well her dress fit.

He nuzzled her between her breasts and felt her hands, already very busy unbuttoning his shirt. He sighed and closed his eyes as she leaned against him, back against the sofa, rubbing her cheek against his chest. He loved the feel of her hands on him and thought he was just enjoying her touch when she said, "Andy, sweetheart, are you asleep?"

He came suddenly alert. "Was I? Oh, I'm sorry, babe. Guess I'm more tired than I thought I was."

Brenda kissed him sweetly and said, "No, I'm sorry. I've been keeping you up late. A lot. So tonight, we can just go to bed, and you can tell me how much you like this dress another night."

"I'm sorry, angel. It's not that I don't want to..." his voice trailed off.

"Well, for heaven's sake, I know that. But you're tired. And we may have a long day tomorrow. You're nearly asleep again." She stood up and took Andy's hand and pulled him to his feet. "I have to take care of my squad," she teased as she led him to the bedroom. "Think you can stay awake long enough to get undressed?"

"Yeah, I think so. I'll stand up to take my clothes off."

She laughed gently and went into the bathroom. When she got back into the bedroom, Andy was in bed, absolutely sound asleep. She had on her tank and capri pajamas. She tried to get into bed with as little jarring as possible, and pulled the blanket over her shoulder. Even so, Andy stirred and slipped his arm around her. Brenda turned over to face him and snuggled her head to his shoulder.

"I'm your teddy bear and you're my angel," Andy murmured and the light from the window was just enough that she could make out a sleepy grin on his face. How in the world had she lived this long without Andy? She wondered.

"Get some sleep, baby love," Brenda answered, and relaxed into his embrace. It was, she mused, one of the few places where she could go completely limp and feel safe doing it. "I'm more tired than I realized, too," was her last thought before sleep claimed her.


	20. Chapter 20: Brass Tacks

**A/N:** It continues. Again, so many thanks for the reviews. Please keep them coming! I always appreciate them.

_Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer."_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 20: Brass Tacks<strong>

"Lieutenant Tao, who did the notification for Kyle Weston? Was it you?" Brenda asked as she walked into the murder room.

"Yes Chief."

"Did he seem upset or otherwise agitated?"

Tao shrugged. "Hard to say. He didn't show a lot of specific emotion at all."

"When you and Detective Gabriel got him in the interview room, did he even ask about his wife's whereabouts, even though she had been gone since yesterday?"

Tao shook his head. "Not really, Chief. He's a tough one to read. Gabriel's in there with him, now."

"All right. Well, let's see what he has to say for himself." Brenda walked to the interview room and peeked through the glass. Kyle Weston sat, pointedly ignoring Gabriel. He was indeed a handsome man, but Brenda was not greatly impressed with him. She opened the door.

"Mr. Weston, I'm Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson. Thank you for being here. I'm very sorry for your loss."

"I don't see why you think it's necessary for me to be here, Chief Johnson, or why the detective read me my rights."

"Well, Mr. Weston, that's just procedure, and we mostly need to eliminate you as a suspect. Tell me: do you know of anyone who would want to kill your wife?"

He rolled his eyes. "Dani? I can't imagine why anyone would make the effort."

Brenda and David glanced at each other. This one was cold. "So your relationship with your wife wasn't exactly, shall we say, affectionate?" Brenda said.

"Dani looked good on my arm and was good in bed. For that, she got to spend my money and apparently, get laid by some geek. I'd say it was more along the lines of a business arrangement," he snapped.

"So why did she even need to work at all?"

"In our prenup, if we divorced, she would get a lump sum and that would be it. No alimony. I suppose she was saving up for a rainy day. Or maybe she just needed the validation. Maybe she was bored. Maybe she needed a hobby. Hell if I know."

"I see," Brenda sweetly answered. "Well then, let's get to the heart of the matter. Where were you between the hours of 9 a.m. and noon yesterday, Mr. Weston?"

"In meetings with clients at our Hollywood offices. My staff can confirm my whereabouts."

"And you wouldn't ever consider hiring someone to kill your wife, now would you?"

Again, the eye roll. "Chief Johnson, I am an attorney of excellent standing in this town. If I had it in mind to spend the kind of money to pay to have someone killed, it wouldn't be Dani. I'd divorce her, pay her the money and go on. It would be less expensive in the long run."

Brenda forced herself to smile at this reptile and said, "Well Mr. Weston, I guess that about covers it. You're free to go. Thank you."

Weston stood and with a brief nod, quit the room, with Gabriel as his escort. Brenda went to the electronics room.

"Real class act, that Weston," Andy said as she entered the room.

"He gives me the creeps. But I don't think he killed her. And I surely can't imagine being married to that – that – that evil _snake_! He's just like a python. Gets his coils around you and ewww." She shuddered. Andy surreptitiously put his hand briefly on her back. "Even his eyes are like snake eyes," she said.

"All right. So we've got the wife and husband eliminated, for all practical purposes. Who's left?" said Taylor, who was observing the interview.

Buzz said, "Chief, I don't know if this is anything, but the people out front caught this guy on camera. They said he came through the checkpoint, asked what floor your office was on, then disappeared. Maybe 10 minutes later, he goes back through the front door and that's all there is." Buzz queued up the video and played it for Brenda.

"Lieutenant Tao, does anything strike you about this individual?" she said.

Tao peered at the video. "Well, not to stereotype, but as one of the tribe, he looks like a card-carrying geek."

Andy leaned over Brenda's shoulder to see, brushing his hip ever so lightly against hers. She glanced at him, but his expression seemed to be intent on the monitor. Yeah, right.

"Tao's right, Chief. His clothes, shoes, everything." Then, Andy's sharp eyes picked up on something. "Hey Buzz. Can you zoom in on his right shirt pocket? Looks like something's tucked inside it."

"Sure, Lieutenant," he answered, and fiddled with the controls. In a moment, he had focused on the man's pocket and said, "Let me play with the resolution a little." Suddenly, the corner of what was obviously an ID badge of some kind became visible. A tiny swan could be seen on the badge.

Andy nodded. "Does that not look like the badges our vics had – from Cygnet Inc?"

Brenda smacked the desk next to Buzz, making him jump. "Yes! Yes it does! And— um, Lieutenant Flynn, you may have just spotted our little note-leaver! And probably our prime suspect. Buzz, get the best print you can of this person and give me a copy. Lieutenant Tao, please call Mrs. Hall back here for another visit, would you? Let's see if she can ID her co-worker."

* * *

><p>Brenda paced impatiently until her detectives arrived with Beverly Hall. She ushered the woman into her office. "Mrs. Hall, I'm so sorry to inconvenience you again, but this is extremely important." She showed the woman the photo. "Does this man look familiar to you?"<p>

Beverly looked carefully at the picture and sat back, startled. "I can't be absolutely certain, because of the quality, but it sure looks like Sid Tapscott. He works in software security at Cygnet."

"Really? How well do you know him?" Brenda asked.

Beverly shook her head. "Not all that well. I mean, I see him around, in the hall or the break room, you know, but I don't work in the same department." A thoughtful look crossed her face. "But Sid's a little, well, a lot strange."

"In what way?"

"He's just not very socially – comfortable" Beverly explained. "He's kind of awkward and he sounds like a robot when he talks. He gets really close when he's talking to you – like he doesn't have a concept of personal space. I know Dani used to make fun of him. But that was nothing unusual. She said crap about me behind my back, too."

Brenda nodded. "Did you ever feel uncomfortable around him?"

"Well, everybody did. But now that you mention it, seems like the past several weeks, I've been seeing him a lot more often. He just pops up where I am when I least expect it. It's been kind of weird. Sort of like the little guy who follows you around in high school, you know?"

"Yeah," Brenda said. "But you never had a relationship with Mr. Tapscott or anything like that."

"No. I mean, I always try to be nice to him because he does get a lot of flak from some of our co-workers, but never much beyond speaking to him in the mornings and thanking him for something he did. If you don't mind me asking, what's Sid got to do with all this?"

Brenda sighed. "Well, I suppose I can tell you this. You might even be able to confirm it. Yesterday, our cameras caught Mr. Tapscott coming in the front door. That's the photo you looked at. He asked where my office was and about ten minutes later, our staff observed him coming out of the building. At about the same time, I found this." Brenda showed Beverly the index card.

The woman's eyes widened. "Wow. And you think Sid gave you this card?"

"It's a possibility. Do you think he's capable of murder?"

"I honestly don't know, Brenda. I really don't. And even if he were, why Dani and Greg?"

"That's what I need to find out," Brenda answered. "Thank you for coming down here. Believe it or not, you've been tremendously helpful."

"You're welcome, Brenda. Let me know if you need anything else," Beverly said.

"I will." Brenda followed the woman into the murder room and was peering at the murder board. Her cell rang. It was her brother. "Hi Chris. Are you all having a nice visit to the UCLA campus?"

At that, Andy's ears pricked up. He wondered what this was about.

Brenda continued talking. "Oh, that's so nice. I know Mama and Daddy enjoyed it. Did they? Well, sounds like you all are having a real good day. I'm glad." Then, her tone changed. "What? Why are you asking me that right now? I do have a job, and right now it includes closing a double murder. Are you kidding me? Well, you just listen here, Christopher Paul Johnson and you listen real good! Charlie is your daughter and she's your responsibility! She's not my child! I love her to pieces, but you and Linda are the ones who have to deal with her, not me! _You_ brought her into this world and _you_ raised her! If you screwed it up, _you're_ the ones to deal with it!" Everyone in the murder room had turned around to hear this. Normally, Brenda would have gone into her office for such a conversation, but this time, apparently, she just didn't care who heard her.

"Well then, you tell my wishy-washy sister-in-law that she should have told that child 'no' once in a while, instead of giving over to her because she wanted to be some kind of modern parent and be her friend instead of her Mama! She had plenty of friends in school, but at home, she needed a Mama! No sirree! I'll tell you _just_ how to raise your child, since you're obviously expecting me to correct your mistakes. That gives me every right to tell you how to do it! Don't you start that. Why don't you ask Mama and Daddy how they feel about you trying to get me to raise your daughter for you! Well, big brother, you telling me how to run my life is gonna come to a screechin' halt _RIGHT NOW_! Good-bye!" She clicked off the call, said, "I'm sorry ya'll heard that. I know it was unprofessional" and stalked into her office, slammed the door, and closed the blinds with a snap. Even behind the glass, they could hear their Chief ranting and beating her fists on her desk. They all looked at Andy.

"_Me!_?" he exclaimed. "You think I'm goin' in there right now? Oh, hell no! When she eats a Ho-Ho or something, then I'll go in. My ma didn't raise any idiots. Well, not that idiotic, anyway." He sat down.

After Andy could hear the furore in Brenda's office had calmed down, he went to her door and knocked softly.

"What is it?" came the irritated reply.

Andy opened the door just enough to peek inside and said, "You all right?"

She sighed. "I guess. Please, come in, though."

"I was just checkin' on you. If you'd rather be by yourself…"

"No, I want you here for a few minutes, anyway." She nodded to the file room and Andy followed her inside. She leaned against the wall. "Andy, I swear, I am going to _kill_ Christopher! I mean kill him! He calls me at work and asks me whether I've made a decision about Charlie and had the gall to ask when she could move in! I could wring his neck, right this minute!"

He nodded. "I got that impression," he said with laughter in his voice.

"This is Linda's doing, I'm telling you. I could kick her skinny rear end all the way back to Atlanta! Now she's gonna raise a stink and say there's dissension in the family and it's all gonna end up being _my_ fault!"

Andy shook his head. "Don't think so. Your parents will take care of that."

"But they shouldn't _have_ to! They shouldn't be put in that position! It's not fair to them."

Andy slipped his hands underneath Brenda's collar and started massaging her neck. "Calm down, Brenda."

She sighed at Andy's touch. Nothing was more welcome, right now. "I'm going to beat Christopher within an inch of his silly life," she said.

"That's your privilege as a sister," he teased.

"Too bad I can't do the same to Linda."

"Yeah, well, beat up your brother and count your blessings," Andy replied with a smile.

"I know Charlie thinks this is about her, and as much as I hate to say it, it is! She's so unpredictable! I was too chicken to misbehave in college. Mama and Daddy would have killed me. Charlie doesn't have that healthy fear, though."

He chuckled. "Yeah, there's something to be said for that. You feel a little better, now?"

"A little." She squeezed his hand. "I know I've said it before, but I don't know what in the world I'd do without you."

He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "I don't either. Don't want to know." With a grin, he went back to his desk, leaving Brenda to contemplate exactly what else she was going to tell her family.

Andy sat down at his computer with a sigh, in order to finish that background check against Sid Tapscott.

"Well, one thing about you and the Chief dating," Provenza began, "You can go in there and calm her down."

Andy gave a short bark of laughter. "Unless I'm the one she's pissed at."

"Then David can do it," Provenza said,

"Not sure I want to try it if she's pissed at Flynn," he answered.

"Yeah," Sanchez agreed. "That's just gonna have to wait until he apologizes and says how sorry he is and tells her she's beautiful, and he loves her, blah, blah, blah."

Flynn took the ribbing with good grace. "Yuk it up. Go ahead. I can take it. But if I don't get this background on Tapscott, you clowns are swingin' for it! Not me!" He turned back to his computer with a snicker. He started reading the background results and said, "Well. Would you look at that?"

"What's up?" Tao said.

Andy kept reading. "This little creep, Tapscott? Turns out, he's had stalking charges leveled against him at the three previous companies where he worked. Looks like the charges were dropped, but he changed employment after every charge. And, he was approved for a permit to carry a handgun before any of the charges were brought against him."

"Now that's interesting," Brenda said from her doorway. "Lieutenants Tao and Provenza, would you see if Mr. Tapscott is willing to come in here to talk to us?"

Andy handed Tao the printout with the man's home address. "Bet he's still at work, though," he said.

Tao nodded. "Probably. But we'll see."

* * *

><p>Andy was right. Sid Tapscott was at work. Tao and Provenza entered the building quietly and when they got to his office, they peeked in the window and Tao whispered, "Buzz would have a coronary if he saw this room." Indeed, the room had all the state-of-the art equipment for visual and technical surveillance.<p>

Tao pressed the buzzer on the door and they waited. When there was no response after a minute or so, Tao buzzed again. This time, there was a brief pause, and the door opened. Sid Tapscott stood in the doorway, looking very agitated.

"I am in the middle of a sweep. I cannot be bothered. Why are you here? Who are you?" Beverly Hall was right. Tapscott did sound robotic when he spoke.

Tao had met a few people like this man in college when he went back for his masters degree. "Mr. Tapscott, I'm Lieutenant Tao and this is Lieutenant Provenza. We're from the LAPD and would like to speak with you, if you have the time."

"I cannot be bothered. I am running a sweep. I do not have time to speak with the Los Angeles Police Department," he said.

Provenza started to speak, but Tao shook his head at him. "Mr. Tapscott, I fully appreciate the seriousness of your work, but this concerns Beverly Hall."

"Beverly Hall? Why does it concern Beverly Hall? Has she been injured? Is she safe?"

"She's perfectly safe, Mr. Tapscott, but we need to speak with you."

"I told you I killed them. What more do you need to know? I need to finish the security sweep."

The lieutenants looked at each other. Provenza said, "Did you just say you killed _them_? Who did you kill, Mr. Tapscott?"

"Dani DeCola and Greg Hall. I killed them. They were unkind to Beverly Hall. We are in love. Did Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson receive my note?"

Tao said, "She did receive your note. Thank you for your candor. And now, since you confessed to the crime, you need to come with us."'

"No, I must finish my security sweep." He turned as if to go back into the room, but Tao stopped him.

"We need your help at the department. We will make sure your sweep is completed."

"No! You do not understand! I must complete it!" He struggled against Tao's grip, but the bigger man was too strong for him. Provenza got his handcuffs out and he and Tao worked to cuff the man.

They finally succeeded and Tao said, "Sidney Tapscott, you are under arrest for the murders of Greg Hall and Dani DeCola." He continued reading Tapscott his rights. "Have you heard and understood these rights?" he said.

"Why did you read me the rights according to the Miranda act?"

"Because you're being arrested. Murder is a crime, Mr. Tapscott. Do you understand your rights?"

"I understand my rights. Why are you arresting me?"

"You confessed to murdering two people. You said you committed a crime. You are arrested for committing a crime," Tao explained.

"This is highly irregular," Tapscott said. He lapsed into silence and said very little until they got him into an interview room.

Brenda motioned to Tao when she saw him come into the murder room. "Sid Tapscott?"

"In Interview One. Chief, I think he has Asperger's, or something similar."

She nodded. "Flynn called his supervisor at his previous job, and he said he was diagnosed with autism when he was about five. He's very high functioning, though. I talked to the people in behavioral about it. They said he's perfectly capable, in all likelihood, of knowing the difference between right and wrong."

"It's _very_ unusual for people with autism to carry out something like this, though," Tao answered.

"That's also what behavioral told me. He's familiar with you, so let's you and I do this. Provenza said he actually confessed?"

"Came right out and said it, Chief," Provenza said, as he walked into the room. "No prompting, nothing. Just said, 'I killed them.' We were just talking and he blurts that out."

"I'll be…" Brenda's voice trailed off. "Well, let's see if we can get him to repeat it for the cameras."

Tao followed Brenda to the interview room and she walked in. "Mr. Tapscott, I'm Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson. You met Lieutenant Tao. I'd like to ask you some questions, if I may."

The man was obviously nervous. His sandy hair was matted to his forehead and he rubbed his hands together incessantly. "You want to talk to me about the note I left in your office?"

"I do," she answered. "Now, Lieutenant Tao read you your rights, is that correct?"

"That is correct. He told me my rights according to the Miranda act."

Brenda nodded. "That's good. Now, why did you leave the note in my office?"

"One is supposed to confess when one does something wrong. I confessed. I sent you the note."

"But it didn't have your name on it. How were we supposed to know who wrote it?"

"_I_ wrote it," Tapscott said, as if the answer should be obvious.

"That's right. You did. So, you told Lieutenant Tao that you killed Dani DeCola and Greg Hall. Is that correct?"

"No, that is not correct."

Brenda looked at Tao. He shrugged his shoulders. In the electronics room, the crew was watching and Provenza said, "What? That little geek said he killed those people!"

"All right, then. What is correct, then?"

"I told Lieutenant Tao and Lieutenant Provenza I killed Dani DeCola and Greg Hall."

Tao rolled his eyes and sighed. Brenda just smiled sweetly at their suspect. "Well, thank you so much for clearing that up for me! So, when did you kill them?"

Tapscott rattled off the correct day, and even the time, which confirmed the coroner's report.

"And how did you kill them, Mr. Tapscott? Also, how did you know where to find them?"

"I knew where they were going. It was where they went all the time. I see everything in the security room. I knew Beverly Hall was going to the supermarket the day I killed Greg Hall and Dani DeCola. I went into the house and told them to get on their knees, and I shot them in the back of the head, with a Browning nine millimeter handgun. Shooting someone in the back of the head is the most effective means of execution."

Tapscott's monotone made the whole incident sound even more chilling and with difficulty, Brenda repressed a shudder. "So why did you kill them if you knew it was wrong, Mr. Tapscott?"

"Because they were unkind to Beverly Hall. They said unkind things about her, and to her. They were committing adultery. That was wrong and unkind to Beverly Hall. Beverly Hall and I love each other."

That really creeped Brenda out, considering what Beverly had told her. "Did Beverly ever _tell_ you she loves you?"

"No. She thanks me for doing things. She says good morning to me. She patted my shoulder once. She is in love with me."

_Eeeeww_, Brenda thought. In the electronics room, Andy grimaced. "Nutcase," he said, glad the creep hadn't glommed on to Brenda. Because then, he would have to shoot the jerk.

"I see. Is the gun you used at your home, Mr. Tapscott?"

"Of course," he answered.

"Do we have permission to search your home to find the gun?" Brenda asked.

"If you do not disturb anything, you have my permission. I can tell you where the gun is. The gun is located on top of my refrigerator. I do not want my brother to find it," he replied.

"Well, that's real helpful. We'll just see if we can go get it," she said, nodding to the camera.

"That's our call," Andy said. "C'mon, Gabriel. Let's get a warrant and go find that gun."

* * *

><p>Warrant in hand, Andy and Gabriel went to Tapscott's home. Andy rang the bell and a man in a wheelchair answered the door. "Can I help you?" he said.<p>

"Lieutenant Flynn and Detective Gabriel, LAPD. We have a warrant to search your home," Andy said.

"A warrant?" The man's face fell. "Oh God. Has Sid been brought up on another stalking charge?"

"He's at our station, now," Gabriel answered.

"Certainly. I'm Jack Tapscott, Sid's brother. I swear, I don't know what we're going to do with him. Come in, please." He moved his chair out of the way, and Andy and Gabriel went to the kitchen.

"Explains why he put the gun up here," Andy said in a low voice. He pulled on gloves and reached up on top of the refrigerator. A moment later, he said, "Jackpot," and showed David a handgun. He removed the magazine from the weapon and cleared the chamber. Gabriel held open an evidence bag so Andy could put the gun and ammunition inside.

Jack came into the kitchen. "A gun? What the hell is Sid doing with a gun?"

Andy and David looked at each other. "Mr. Tapscott, I'm sorry to tell you that your brother has been arrested for murder," David said.

Jack put a hand to his head. "Oh no. I can't believe this. I need to call our attorney. Has he asked for an attorney? How do you know it was Sid?"

"He voluntarily confessed, sir. Before and after he was mirandized. He also left a note in our Chief's office, saying he did it," Andy answered. He really felt for this guy.

"Damn it!" Jack slammed his hand on the arm of his chair. "I thought maybe, this time, he could make it." He shook his head sadly. "I'm disabled infantry. I was a Sergeant First Class in Afghanistan and took a bullet in my spine. Paralyzed from the waist down. I'd always looked after Sid, and after I got out of rehab, I still did. He's not able to live alone. I can, but not Sid. He can't keep track of everyday things. Did he say why he did this?"

"You need to talk to our Chief," David answered. "Can we give you a ride to the station?"

"No, I can drive. I have a van. Thank God I can use my hands. I'll follow you down."

"All right, Mr. Tapscott. We'll meet you there," Andy said.

The detectives got back to the murder room before Jack Tapscott arrived. Andy found Brenda. "Hey Chief, we got the gun, right where Tapscott said it would be. His brother is in a wheelchair, but looks after him. Gabriel's taking the gun to ballistics, but I'm betting we've got a match. The gun was a Browning nine millimeter."

Brenda sighed. "Dear Lord. Well, when the brother gets here, please bring him to my office."

"Sure thing, Chief," Andy answered.

Tao showed Jack into Brenda's office and Andy and David joined him.

Brenda introduced herself and said, "I am so sorry about this. I hope maybe you can answer a few questions for us, though."

"Can I see my brother?" he asked.

"Of course. We'll take you to him here in a couple of minutes. First, did you know he had a gun, or had applied for a permit?"

"No way. If I'd known, I'd have gotten rid of the gun as soon as he bought it. That's why he put it on top of the fridge. He knew I couldn't see it there."

"Have you ever had any fears that your brother might be violent?"

Jack sighed. "Sid's always been unpredictable. I'd have said he would have trashed someone's office before he shot two people, though. Normally, except for his job, he doesn't plan things out like that."

"But he's capable of that level of planning," Brenda said.

Jack shrugged. "Sure, he's _capable_, but whether he would actually _do_ it or not are two different things. Autistic people don't move through the world the same way other people do. And it differs from person to person."

Brenda nodded. "I understand. Have you ever heard Sid mention someone named Beverly?"

Jack's brow furrowed. "Yeah. He said he had a girlfriend at work named Beverly."

"And did you believe he had a girlfriend, considering the stalking charges that had been brought against him?"

"With Sid, you never know. One of the features of autism is not understanding human interaction in the same way others do. I didn't contradict him, if that's what you mean. Everybody deserves a fantasy life."

Brenda smiled sympathetically. "That's true. The problem is, Beverly Hall is a married woman and according to her, there was no relationship. She surmised Sid said there was because she was nice to him."

"Yeah, that's probably about right," Jack said, resigned. "Like I said, he doesn't see relationships like you and I do." A look of horror crossed his face. "He didn't kill Beverly, did he?"

"No, Mr. Tapscott. He killed her husband and the woman he was having an affair with. He said they were being unkind to Beverly."

The man shook his head sadly. "Oh, my God. That's always been Sid's saving grace: he believed in being 'kind' as he put it, to people who were nice to him. I'm sure it all sounded perfectly rational to him. He would never hurt an animal or a child, or an elderly person – or someone who was good to him. He considers himself their protector. He understands people or creatures being helpless, and he puts himself in the role of being their superhero. So, someone who was being unkind to someone under his care, as he understood it, had to be dealt with."

"He did say he knew that killing them was wrong," Brenda said, "Which is why he confessed."

"Oh yes. He knows right from wrong. Cause and effect? Consequences? Unless it deals with computers, not so much."

"Tell me, Mr. Tapscott, are you Sid's legal guardian, or do you have power of attorney for him?"

"I'm not his guardian, but I do have durable and medical power of attorney for him. He's able to manage his finances and so forth, but that's pretty easy, since he does it online and he doesn't own anything. The house is mine and he takes the bus to work."

"I see. Your brother has not asked for an attorney. And since you're not a legal guardian, you cannot ask for one on his behalf. He was mirandized and confessed. Because of his unique condition, I am willing to ask a court psychiatrist to evaluate him to see if he is competent, and I will certainly recommend to the DA that he be confined in a facility where he can be cared for."

Jack Tapscott's face was a mask of sorrow. "I can't believe this. Thank you for your willingness to work with this situation. Can I see him now?"

Brenda nodded. "Detective Gabriel, would you escort Mr. Tapscott to interview one?"

"Sure, Chief." They left the office.

Brenda fumbled for a tissue. "That poor man. I feel so sorry for him."

"Yeah," Andy replied. "Doesn't seem right. But who would have thought the brother was a ticking time bomb?"

"I know it. Speaking of bombs, I know one is about to drop on me for yelling at Chris like that this afternoon. Mama called and she's on my side, but they all want to meet me at my house. In two hours." Brenda put her head on her desk. "I'd rather stick pins in my eyes."

Andy chuckled. "That's a little drastic."

"I know, but it's true," she said, head still on her desk. She looked up at Andy. "Could you be there? Just to keep Chris in line?"

"Brenda, this is your family. You've got to deal with them."

"I know, but ooooohhhh!" She stomped her feet on the floor. "I don't _need_ this!"

"Well, at least we closed the case," Andy said.

"Which is a mercy, but for heaven's sake! I'm inclined to shoot my brother for being 'unkind' to me!" she exclaimed.

That got a wicked grin. "Brenda, look. Tell them 'no.' They'll get over it."

"But I don't want them to think I don't care about Charlie! I do! I just don't want her living with me!"

Andy thought about this for a moment. "So is a compromise possible?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Maybe a study night at your house once a week. You know, dependent on your schedule, but it might be something they'd consider."

Brenda's face brightened. "Andy Flynn, you're a genius! An absolute genius! I never thought about that. But that may just be the solution. You're still going to be there, though. You may be the only person on earth who can keep me from killing my brother and his wife." She sighed. "I need to call the DA, about the Tapscott case, too."

Andy stood. "I still don't think it's a great idea for me to be there tonight," he said.

"I've got to have some back-up, Andy. You don't have to say anything. Just be there for me, please." Brenda's look was pleading.

"All right." He looked at his watch. "Ten more minutes and you'll have to pay me overtime. Let me clock out and I'll see you in a couple of hours." He went around her desk and kissed her sweetly.

"See you then," she said.

* * *

><p>Andy arrived at Brenda's house before the family did. He sat her down on the sofa. "Can I give you a little advice, or do you just want to get through it?"<p>

Brenda sighed. "Please. Any advice is welcome. Preach at me, if you want to."

He grinned. "No preaching tonight. Stand up for yourself. You don't have to lose your temper. Just tell those two exactly what you're willing to do. If they try to get you to do something you don't want to do, tell them you're not doing it. Period. I don't care how they try to convince you otherwise, remember this is _your_ life we're talking about, not theirs. You know your mom and dad support you and I do. O.K.? Don't get – well, _try_ not to get defensive. Just be firm, but civil."

Brenda nodded and then grinned wickedly at him.

"What?" he said.

"Nobody in the LAPD would recognize you if they heard you say that. They'd be looking for the empty pod out by the dumpster. You giving advice on keeping your temper and all." She giggled.

"I do stand up for myself," he answered.

"Oh, you do indeed. You surely do!" she chuckled. "Including throwing a wicked right cross upside the head if it's called for."

He shrugged. "Like you said. If it's called for."

They had a few minutes' respite before Brenda's doorbell rang. She took a deep breath, looked heavenward in prayer and went to answer the door.

"Come in, Mama and Daddy. Come on in, ya'll," she said. "Just go on into the den and have a seat." Another idea was brewing in Brenda's head.

Chris glared at Andy, and received a glare in return. It irritated Chris that Andy was here, and even more so, that he wasn't shy about asserting himself. Fritz had been more deferential to Brenda's family. Andy was to their parents, but to him? No way.

Brenda looked at her assembled family and paused for just a moment. "All right, I'll just start the ball rolling by saying Chris, I am sorry I yelled at you on the phone this afternoon. I had a double murder to investigate and I told you it wasn't a good time. However, I should have just ended the call right then. I shouldn't have yelled at you." She looked at her niece. "And I think we're missing a really crucial piece of evidence, here. Charlie, I haven't had a chance to talk to you about this. Without worrying about what your parents think, what do you want? Do you want to live with me? Do you even want to go to UCLA? Be honest."

Charlie started to answer, when her mother interrupted, "Of course, she wants to go to UCLA and to live with you! Why would we even be here, otherwise?"

Brenda turned a cold stare on her sister-in-law. "Linda, my niece is old enough to answer for herself. She doesn't need you to be her mouthpiece. So you close your mouth, please, and let her say something. Thank you so much!"

Linda sat back, indignation and fury written all over her face. Charlie suppressed a grin at how her aunt handled her mother. Andy didn't bother and neither did Clay. They glanced at each other in perfect understanding. Willie Rae rolled her eyes and silenced Chris with an raised finger.

"Well, Aunt Brenda," Charlie said, "It would be cool to live with you, but I mean, when I stayed with you and Uncle Fritz a couple of years ago, I know I spent a lot of time in the murder room because you caught a couple of crazy cases. It kind of fun, seeing how it all came together, but I know I'd be alone here a lot, unless, um, Lieutenant Flynn was here or something. You know, and if I'm going to UCLA, I want to be where I could make friends, like in the dorm or something."

Brenda nodded. "And if you pledged a sorority, you could live in the sorority house. That wouldn't work if you lived with me."

"But we want her to be safe!" Chris exclaimed.

"Oh, for God's sake!" Clay snapped. "She got into more trouble living at home with you two than the law allows – literally! I don't see how living in the dorm would be that much different. It's not like they don't have walls and locks on the doors! And I'll bet I saw ten campus police cars on our tour! She either grows up or she doesn't, you two. I'd like to keep her little, too, but the days of her wearing pigtails and frilly dresses are over! She's not a little girl, anymore, and nothing we can do can change that. No, I have to take Brenda Leigh's side on this one. Charlie's about grown. Well, she is grown, and she doesn't need her aunt looking over her shoulder all the time. And Brenda Leigh's grown, too. She shouldn't have to look after a young'un she didn't raise. Not her responsibility."

Andy was enjoying this thoroughly. Brenda was standing up for herself, and that whiny sister-in-law of hers wasn't getting what she wanted. He loved it.

"Daddy! I can't believe you! Mama, what about you?" Chris said.

Willie Rae drew herself up. "I have to back up your Daddy here. He's right, and I can't believe you'd just spring this on your sister, without even talking to her about it, first. That's not right, Christopher. You don't do your family that way. It's taking shameful advantage of her, but you don't even act like you care. And, in case you want to go whining to the rest of the family, they're not exactly wild about this idea, either, and they think you're taking advantage of your sister. And not only that, but I'm sure it makes Charlie feel like she's unreliable and untrustworthy. She's worked very hard the past two years to earn your trust and respect, and this is a slap in her face, too."

Andy leaned back on the sofa, wondering who was going to fire the next shot in this war. So far, it looked good for Brenda's side.

"And you can just wipe that smug look off _your_ face, Lieutenant Flynn!" Linda snapped at Andy.

Brenda looked fearfully at Andy. Oh, had Linda ever stepped in it, now. She didn't want this kind of trouble. Brenda braced herself for the worst, but he only raised an eyebrow at the woman and said evenly, "Mrs. Johnson, I suggest you stop worrying about the look on my face. You have other things to be concerned about."

"You shouldn't even be here! This is family business!" she shrilled.

"But I am here. I was asked to be here by Brenda. And I'm not leaving unless she or her parents ask me to." His eyes narrowed and Linda suddenly wished she was anywhere else.

"Mom, I think you've said just about enough," Charlie put in.

She sat back again and Chris patted her arm. He badly wanted to face off with Andy, but the man hadn't insulted his wife or raised his voice. And he hadn't expressed an opinion on the issue, or even said a word since they arrived.

"Now then," Brenda said. "If Charlie makes the decision to attend UCLA, of course, she's welcome in my home, and will have all my contact information in case of an emergency. In fact, I'll be glad to be her official emergency contact so if, Lord forbid, she has to go to the ER or something, I can make emergency decisions on her behalf. And I'd love to have her over once a week or so for dinner, and she can do some studying here. I'm considering moving, and the house I'm looking at has four bedrooms. I'd love to make one up as a room for her. If she'd like to spend the weekend with me once a month or so, that would be fine, too. I'll be glad to help her in any way I can, and you should know that, Chris. I love Charlie, and I want her college experience to be a good one. I think that will happen best on campus, where she can make friends and find her own way."

"I think that's quite a lot for Brenda Leigh to be willing to do for Charlie," Willie Rae said. "I don't know how I raised children so bent on getting their own way about something, but I did. That's my failing. And that's the reason your nose is so out of joint on this, Christopher. You aren't getting your way. And I think we've hashed this issue out about as much as we need to. Brenda's given you her answer, and we have to respect it. Now, I think we've got a full day tomorrow, too, and we can all use the rest. I know Brenda Leigh and Andy have had a long day themselves." She stood and so did Clay, Brenda and Andy. Charlie got up and looked at her parents. Reluctantly, they stood also.

Charlie went to her aunt. "Thanks, Aunt Brenda. I love you, too. And I appreciate what you're willing to do for me."

"You're welcome, sugar," Brenda answered. "I'll see you all later on." She opened the door for them, kissed her parents and Charlie and nodded coolly at Chris and Linda. The latter walked out, with a pout on her face suitable for a four-year-old. Brenda closed the door. She turned to Andy. "Thank God that's over."

He stood and went to her. "Brenda, I'm really proud of you. You stood your ground, and you didn't let Linda rattle you."

"I'm prouder of _you_," Brenda answered. "Linda's whiny little self is enough to make the Pope cuss. The real Pope. The one in Rome."

Andy chuckled. "No doubt." He folded Brenda into his arms, then led her to the sofa and pulled her down to sit in his lap. "Now what's this about a house?" he said.

"I've been meaning to tell you, but all this came up. I found a house I really like. I'd love for you to come look at it with me."

He nodded. "I will."

She smiled at him and reached to kiss him. As his mouth touched hers, she wondered again how just a kiss from Andy did what it did to her. But the first time her hand had ever touched his, all those years ago, she had been lost, and just didn't know it. She had brushed off the electricity between them. Oh, the time she had wasted! She kissed him more fiercely, feeling his response when his arms tightened around her, one hand in her hair, his mouth taking over their kiss. This was how it was supposed to feel with a man, Brenda thought.

Andy, for his part, often wondered what this woman saw in him. She mesmerized him with her incredible mind, coupled with that body that made his fingers itch to touch her. Her soft skin, smooth and white, and not marked from too much sun, was like satin. Those incredible legs, swaying hips and ample breasts – they all drove him crazy. Her body was made for a man to touch, and he intended to appreciate it as long as he was able to.

"Andy, I want you, baby."

"You know you don't have to ask twice," he teased. He stood, carefully, cradling her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. This was one night when they both needed a little release from the tensions of the day. As a result, clothes were quickly discarded and landed somewhere in the room, and Brenda welcomed Andy's weight on her body, his hands on her skin, driving her to madness, his mouth on hers, then on her throat, making her cry out. She wanted his familiar scent in her nose, his heat, his passion. Nothing else came close to how he set her on fire.

Andy took her hips in his hands and fitted himself inside her, feeling how she welcomed him into her body. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted a drink. She had said she was addicted to him. She didn't know just how addictive her body had become for him.

Brenda clasped Andy to her as his movements inside her became more forceful. "Please, it's so good, Andy," she gasped. He wasn't exactly taking his time, but she didn't want him to. She wanted the release only he could give her and she didn't feel like waiting for it. Neither did Andy. He rocked into her body and felt her shuddering climax as much as he heard her screams and sighs. As it often did, her climax sparked his and his longing for her found its satisfaction in her warmth and softness.

Brenda sighed into Andy's chest, rubbing her cheek against it, simply reveling in the feel of his body next to hers. Safety and security were to be found in his arms and words of love were whispered in her ear as they both found sleep coming easily that night.


	21. Chapter 21: Looking for Trouble?

**A/N:** You were looking for an update? Me, too. Two multi-chapters at once, from opposite points of view. Sometimes, I forget where I am. LOL. Anyway, this is setting the stage, more than anything else. Provenza has a scheme, has pitched it to Andy, and Brenda's coming along for the ride. We'll have to see what happens. This could get interesting. Reviews let me know if I'm on the right track, so please, R&R! Thank you!

_Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer."_

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><p><strong>Chapter 21: Looking for Trouble?<strong>

"She wants me to look at a house with her. What's wrong with that?" Andy and Provenza were at lunch.

"What's wrong with that? Flynn, I never thought I'd live to see the day you were whipped! And that's what you are! Whipped!"

Andy chuckled. "Ya think so, huh? And you've never been there, right? Never wore suits with a sweater that a department store buyer girlfriend got for you? What'd you call that – the 'country gentleman' look? Was that it?"

Provenza glowered at his friend. "Shut up."

"Well, at least the fringe benefits are worth it," Andy said, as he sipped his iced tea.

Provenza raised a cynical eyebrow. "Yeah, and I'll bet you have to work for those benefits, too. I know they don't come easy. Not with Miss Atlanta. I know, emotionally, she's high-maintenance."

"She can be." Andy had to concede the point. "But she is improving. She actually stood up to that brother of hers. You know, he was trying to guilt her into having her niece live with her."

"Yeah, I wondered how that turned out. Glad she was able to avoid that. I wouldn't want to be responsible for that kid."

"Me either. Brenda sure doesn't need it. But you know, she's in counseling, and it really has helped her."

Provenza nodded. "Sometimes, it does. And she does seem less, oh, I don't know, touchy."

"That's definitely improved. There was room for it," Andy said wryly.

"Now I want to know something. You never would tell me. That Monday after you got back from Monterey with Raydor. I know you went by the Chief's house. When you got into the office, I could swear the side of your face was red. Did she hit you?"

Because it was Provenza, Andy nodded. "Slapped the hell out of me as soon as I walked in the door."

"And what did you do?"

"Sat her down on the sofa and told her I'd file assault charges if she did it again. And I would have."

"Flynn, you have the patience of a saint with that woman."

Andy laughed. "And sometimes, I need it, I'm telling you."

"I still don't know how you do it. I mean, she probably uses the goodies as a bribe, right?"

Considering Brenda's proclivities, that made Andy laugh harder. "You wish. Sometimes it's tough keeping up with her."

Provenza's mouth dropped open. "You are not serious. The _Chief_? C'mon! She doesn't make you beg for it?"

"I only have to beg for a break once in a while."

That prompted Provenza to reach for the napkin on the table and mop his forehead. "If anybody but you told me that, I'd say they were lying, Flynn. But I know you wouldn't."

"No lie." And just to mess with his partner's head, Andy added, "And my necktie has come in handy, too." His grin was evil.

Provenza's eyes popped. The image of Brenda Leigh Johnson tied naked to a bed was enough to make his 60-plus heart bounce momentarily out of rhythm. "You're gonna give me a coronary," he said.

"You asked," Andy said.

"Yeah, I asked. Your tie, though. Really? _Really_?"

"Really. Absolutely." Andy looked as smug as Provenza had ever seen him.

"And she still wants you to look at houses with her." Provenza's face turned thoughtful. "Wonder if the FBI guy ever used his necktie that way?"

"Why don't you ask her sometime? See if she can slap you harder than she slapped me," Andy chuckled.

Provenza raised an eyebrow. "As interesting as the answer would be, no, I don't think I will," he said and finished the last of his coffee.

That prompted another chuckle. "Yeah, and she'd work me over again if she knew I told you. But hey..."

"If you can't tell your partner, who can you tell? Oh- I wanted to tell _you_ something. I've been in touch with a friend of mine who's a realtor. He has a couple of time shares in Baja California he needs to unload, and he has a couple of prospects, but can't get down there to show the properties. If we could go down there and be there to let the people in, he said he'd pay us $1,000 each for our time."

Andy shook his head. "No way. The last time I let you talk me into something, we both nearly lost our badges. Nope."

"C'mon, Flynn. We let the people in. We show them around. We let them out. We lock up and come back to L.A. We get paid. What could possibly go wrong?"

A scowl crossed Andy's face. "With us? Everything. Absolutely everything. Like in a sitcom everything. I promised Brenda I wouldn't let you talk me into one more of your nutcase schemes. No dice."

"So, bring the Chief along!" Provenza said persuasively. "My buddy even said he'd arrange for a charter plane to fly us down there and back. Maybe the Chief might even be interested. You never know. Two units on the same property. You two can stay in one, and you know, have some privacy, and I'll stay in the other one."

"You're a mental case, Provenza. If you think the Chief would get involved in this, you're in worse shape than I thought."

"But it never hurts to ask, right? C'mon. It's a trip to Baja! Sun, sand, nice place to stay. Ask her. See what she says."

Andy sighed in resignation. He knew Provenza wasn't going to let this go. "All right. I'll ask her. When is this little trip to paradise, anyway?"

"It's the first of October. That's why I'm telling you now. Plenty of notice, right?

"Yeah, but the grand poo-bah isn't going to like it if we catch a case and half the Major Crimes squad is in Baja."

Provenza rolled his eyes. "So what's Taylor there for, anyway? Decoration? What does he get paid to do? Why have him there if he can't get an investigation started?"

"You know that, and I know that, but there's this little blonde, about so high, who would go bananas if she knew there was a case in L.A. and she wasn't. And Taylor? Taylor gets paid to talk to the media and wear ties on camera that should have been declared illegal in 1976."

Provenza laughed at that comment. "True. So then Gabriel can deal with His Popeness. That kid will be chief one of these days. He's a born diplomat."

"Yep, Saint David. Suppose we should all ask for a divine blessing now, or wait until he makes his ascension?" Andy's tone was at its sarcastic worst.

"God, Flynn. It's a wonder the Almighty hasn't struck you with lightning yet!" Provenza chuckled.

"He agrees with me. That's why," was the answer.

The older man shook his head. "Now, now. One other good side effect of you dating the Chief is that she actually listens to the rest of us, for a change. David's not the only one in the room, now."

"That's true. Oh — word from the Chief, by the way. Delk is talking about re-organization. She's afraid he wants to do a little too much re-organizing where Major Crimes is concerned. She said to have some paperwork underneath your crossword puzzle all the time, so if His Majesty strolls through, we can look like we're producing - something. We're not supposed to look like we're standing around waiting on a case."

A scowl answered Andy's statement. "Good Lord. How long has it been since Tommy Delk walked a beat? That's what cops _do_! When we don't have a case, we wait for the next one! What else are we supposed to do?"

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger. Just passing the word along."

Provenza waved an impatient hand. "I get it. Consider it passed." He glanced at his watch. "Well, I guess we need to take our lazy, unproductive butts back to the office. But you will talk to the Chief about the time share."

"I'll talk to her. Can't guarantee what she'll say, but I'll talk to her."

* * *

><p>"Andy, I've made an appointment to see that house this weekend. You said you'd come with me," Brenda said. They were at Andy's place. Brenda had some work-related folder she was crabbing through and Andy was watching the Dodgers lose yet again.<p>

"I'll be there. What time?" he said, then threw a balled-up sock at the television. "A bunch of 12-year-olds could outpitch you people!" he yelled.

Brenda nudged him with her foot. "Calm down. I told the realtor we'd be there at 11:30. Is that all right?"

"Fine with me. When does the fam damily go back to G.A.?" he asked.

Brenda tried to look outraged at Andy's witticism, but had to chuckle instead. "They leave on the 10 a.m. flight tomorrow. Thank the Lord. I do not want to go through another scene like that one the other night. I'm not having it."

"So has Charlie actually settled on UCLA?"

"I think so. They offered the best scholarship. It was for out of state students. Although, once Chris buys the plane ticket back out here for her, and she gets settled in, and he pays for her books and spending money, I suspect it'll be just about as much as if she'd gone to Georgia or Auburn."

"I'm just glad she's not settling in with you for the duration."

"Not nearly as glad as I am. It would be nice if she pledged a sorority, maybe. Their housing is usually nicer than the dorms. And it would be you know, sort of instant friends."

Andy nodded. "Do they have grade requirements or anything?"

"Sort of. They want you to keep your grades at a certain level or they put you on probation," Brenda answered. "But Linda was a Kappa Kappa Gamma at Georgia and UCLA has a chapter, too, so Charlie would almost certainly be accepted as a legacy, if she wanted to pledge."

"Did Georgetown have sororities?"

Brenda's face turned suspicious. "Yes. Why?"

Andy's eyes were twinkling wickedly. "And were you in a sorority?"

"Why on earth do you need to know that?"

"Just curious. Were you? Or did you get kicked out?"

Brenda spluttered indignantly. "No! I did not get kicked out! I'm an alumna member of Alpha Gamma Delta in good standing, I'll have you know!"

"Are you now?" His voice was impossibly teasing.

"Yes! I've even been featured in the national magazine in their successful alumni news!"'

Andy laughed and tugged her ponytail. "Ooooh. I've got a sorority chick!"

She slapped his thigh. "You stop laughing at me! I don't know why the thought of me being in a college sorority tickles you so."

He was still laughing. "Because it just makes you the typical Southern belle, that's all."

"Oh hush. I was a legacy, too. Otherwise, I'd have never been accepted."

"Yeah, right."

"I still don't know why this is so funny to you."

He grinned widely. "C'mon. Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson, head of Major Crimes at the Los Angeles Police Department and former Alpha Gamma Delta? It _is_ funny. Now what would all your sisters say if they knew you were keeping company with a blue-collar cop from Jersey?"

She smacked his chest with the folder. "Would you just _hush_? You and that smart mouth of yours."

Andy looked up thoughtfully. "Wonder if Sharon was ever in a sorority? I'll have to ask her. Now wouldn't it be something if you two were from the same sorority? You'd be _sisters_!"

"Fink! Rat! Evil-minded thing!" Brenda yelled, as she rained blows on Andy with her folder. He was laughing so hard he could hardly defend himself. Somehow, he got the folder out of her hands and she lunged across his lap for it. He held it up out of her reach and switched it to his opposite hand and then Brenda found herself lying face down across Andy's lap, with him resting his forearms on her back, keeping her right there.

"Now isn't this interesting?" he said. "Wonder what I should do next?"

"Let me up, that's what!"

Andy's chuckle was absolutely evil. "As long as I've wanted you exactly like this? Oh, no. I don't think so."

"LIEUTENANT!" Brenda yelled. "Turn me loose!"

"We're not in the murder room, _Chief,_ so pulling rank doesn't work. No, I think you're fine right where you are." He rested one hand right on her backside. "You know, you told me once that what I did for a pair of jeans should be illegal. Have I ever told you what _you_ do for a pair?" He ran his hand from her rear down her thigh, making her shiver involuntarily. "I've always been a leg man, myself, but this," and here he patted her rump, "could make me change my point of view."

"Snake," Brenda spat. "Only that's an insult to the snake. Filthy, nasty, stinking, low-down, rotten, sorry, lousy, repugnant excuse for a MAN!"

To Brenda's chagrin, Andy didn't even have the decency to be insulted. Instead, he laughed harder. "I wonder how many men have wished they had you just like this?"

She squirmed furiously, but Andy was entirely too strong for her, and she knew it. She would just have to play along until he had his fun and then – then she would pay him back in spades. "O.K. Ha, ha. Joke's over. Would you please let me up?"

"Say pretty please." Oh, he was so dead.

"Pretty please. With sugar on top. And a cherry."

"All right," he said and released her.

Immediately, Brenda was up and had her knee pressed painfully against his groin, her whole weight behind it. "Feel good?" she said, her eyes narrowed at him.

"What are you doin'?"

"Like you said, Andy. Paybacks are hell," she answered sweetly, increasing the pressure of her knee.

"OW! I wasn't gonna hurt you! You know that! Jeez, Brenda! You are one mean woman!"

"And you'd better keep that firmly in mind, you sorry polecat!"

"I will." He put her back on to the sofa, where she sat with a smug grin. "But you'd better not expect anything tonight. I think you bruised something."

"Bet I could change your mind," Brenda said, sneaking her hand across to touch him.

Andy caught her hand. "No way, chick. You ain't gettin' near it! I don't trust you in this mood."

She sat back against the sofa, a pout on her face. "Party pooper," she huffed, arms crossed.

"Hell, yeah. I don't want to have to explain to my doctor what happened when my girlfriend got pissed at me. Next thing you know, I'm gonna have to start hiding the sharp knives."

Brenda rolled her eyes. "Honestly. I don't know what in the world I see in you some days."

"Me either, sweetheart. I've wondered that a lot. But you're stuck with me. I told you it would never be dull, didn't I?"

"No argument there."

Andy chuckled and said, "Well, since you're ticked, I might as well get you all the way to completely pissed off."

"How?"

"One word: Provenza"

Brenda's eyes flew open. "Oh, for heaven's sake! What have you two done NOW? And you promised me faithfully you wouldn't let him talk you into anything! Oh, Andy!" she wailed.

"Calm down, Brenda. I haven't done anything. Scout's honor. Provenza wanted me to run something by you."

"No. Absolutely not."

"Hear me out, just so I can tell him I told you. O.K.?"

She rolled her eyes. "All right. What is it?"

"He wants us, that's you, and me, and him, to fly down to Baja."

"Baja! What in the world for?"

"He's got a friend who's a realtor."

"I am NOT getting into a time share scam!"

Andy sighed. "No, that's not it. The realtor has a couple of time shares he needs to show to prospective buyers. They're at the same resort and the realtor can't be there the weekend he was going to show them. He said he'd pay Provenza and me each $1,000 to go down there, show the units and lock up afterward. Then, we fly back. He even said he'd send us down on a charter flight."

Brenda raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Oh, it all sounds very reasonable and workable. So does everything Louis Provenza comes up with. In theory, anyway. In practice, it always ends up with his tail, and generally yours, in a sling."

"Well, I can't dispute that, but for a change, this seems like it's all on the up and up. Tell you what: before I make any commitments, I'll call the realtor myself and even look him up on the Internet, just to make sure this is legit. You can even call him yourself and check him out. I mean, if it's on the level, I could use the cash, and what's wrong with a weekend in Baja?"

"Well, nothing, but if Provenza's involved, I just know complications are the inevitable outcome."

Andy laughed. "Hey, nobody knows that better than I do."

"I still can't believe you let his car get stolen with all that evidence in the trunk."

"_Me_? Now come on, Brenda. That's not fair. I wouldn't even have made the trip if you hadn't said, 'Lieutenant Flynn, go with Lieutenant Provenza and escort the suspect back to Los Angeles.' If Gabriel or Sanchez had been along instead, the same thing would have happened, and you know it. I was just along for the ride. You can't pin that one on me. Some other stuff, yeah. But not that."

"I think Gabriel might have noticed _something_," Brenda said.

"Even Saint David doesn't have eyes in the back of his head," Andy returned. "So give that one a rest, how about it, Brenda? Crawl me about the flight attendants, about the skybox tickets, or even about Ray Hodge if you just have to, but the stolen car fiasco belongs right in Provenza's lap. Not mine."

"I hate it when you're always right," Brenda said.

"Hey, I'm just glad to be right once in a while."

"Don't start that again."

"I'm not. You're just still pissed because you ended up over my knee, so admit it and stop trying to pick a fight. Remember what Philippa said?"

"I remember," Brenda replied, not happily.

"O.K. So why don't you come over here and be the sweet, cuddly version of Brenda Leigh Johnson," he wheedled.

"I'm not really feeling sweet _or_ cuddly today."

Andy put his arms around her from behind and nuzzled her hair. "So, as we say in AA, 'act as if,'" he answered.

"You are worse than impossible," she retorted, but couldn't help the goosebumps that rose up when he nosed the back of her neck and kissed her softly under her hair. She could feel him increase the pressure of his mouth and said, "There had better not be a hickey there in the morning."

She could feel him laugh. "There's been a time, in some circles, when a hickey from me was considered a badge of honor."

"You conceited thing, you."

"Ehh, so sue me. I ought to tie you down and put a whole ring of them right around your neck and make you go to work that way. Will Pope would have a heart attack, and Gabriel would have a seizure right there in the murder room. And if Sharon saw you, I'd never hear the end of it from her or Jim. But, it would almost be worth it.

"Even if I never spoke to you again?"

"Oh, you'd speak to me. It might just be profanity for a day or two, but you'd speak to me. Because, after three or four days of none of this," and here he nibbled her earlobe, making her shudder, "or this," and his sure hands slipped under her top to find her breasts, "you'd be back."

Brenda turned to face him, but at least now she was smiling. "As much as I hate to say it, you egotistical man pig, you're right. I love you and living any amount of time without you is just not an option anymore."

"Glad to hear it," Andy replied, taking Brenda's face in his hands and kissing her tenderly. "And by the way – I love you, too."

* * *

><p>"Have you given Provenza an answer about that time share thing yet?" Brenda asked. She was giving Andy directions to the house she wanted to see again.<p>

"Nope. I told you I'd give you a chance to check it out, first. Turn here?"

"Yeah. Well, I checked it out. It seems legit, but this is Provenza, after all, and I'm just leery of anything he comes up with."

"I know. I need to give him an answer by Monday, though."

"All right. I'll give it a little more thought. Here's the house," Brenda said.

Andy stopped the car and looked at the place. "Nice from here," he said.

"I really liked it the first time I stopped by. Here's the realtor."

They got out of the car and the realtor met them. "Hi, guys," she said. "So glad you could make the appointment. Ms. Johnson, I really think you'd be happy here. Come on in and let's look around a little more. I'm Sandra Carr. And you are…?" she said, offering her hand to Andy.

"Andy Flynn," he answered, shaking the woman's hand. He looked around the yard. It had obviously been mowed, and the shrubbery trimmed, but it needed some care.

Brenda looked at him, "I want to plant some crape myrtles and a magnolia, if I can get one shipped here. And some azaleas in front of the porch. I want it to look like a little piece of Georgia in L.A."

Andy smiled at her and nodded understandingly. "Sounds good," he said.

They walked in and the realtor was saying, "If you're serious about making an offer, the owner, you remember, the lady's son, says he'll repaint the house inside and out, and he'll have the floors sanded and re-finished."

"Really?" Brenda said. "That's wonderful." She led Andy to the den area. She whispered, "If you decide to move in with me, we could put your TV and recliner in here."

"You saying you'd let me have a man cave?" he teased.

"After a fashion, and to a certain extent," she answered.

Also downstairs, they looked at the master bedroom, which had been remodeled so it had a private bath. Upstairs, Brenda pointed out the room she intended to fix up for Charlie, and another to use as a second guest room. The smallest room she wanted to use as an office.

They went back downstairs and looked at the kitchen. Ms. Carr met them. "The owner also says he'll update the appliances."

Andy looked a little doubtful. "What's wrong with the house that the owner's willing to do all this for a sale?"

The realtor raised her eyebrows at him. "It's a sale. The housing market is desperate. I mean, the state is nearly bankrupt. People are unemployed. It's a buyer's market, and our seller is willing to do a lot to sell this house. He needs the money, too."

Andy nodded. "Makes sense."

The realtor looked at Brenda, "And Ms. Johnson, I have a couple who is very interested in your current residence. If you're really interested in this property, and you have a place to stay, I can get the rental arranged to begin in October. We can have this house move-in ready by November."

"She's got a place to stay," Andy said, putting his arm around Brenda's shoulders. She looked up at Andy, an incredulous smile on her face and whispered, "Are you sure?" He nodded and grinned at her.

"Oh, well that solves a lot of problems, then. Tell you what, Ms. Johnson. Think about it over the weekend and give me a call on Monday. If you still want the house, I'll start getting the paperwork together, and making all the rental arrangements."

"I'll call you," Brenda said.

As she and Andy drove back to his place, Brenda asked, "Do you like it, Andy?"

"Yeah, it's a nice place. And if the owner's willing to do all that work, I don't think you'll get a better deal in L.A. County."

"That's kind of what I thought. And you wouldn't mind me and Joel living in your apartment for a month?"

"It's a two-bedroom. There's room," he teased.

Brenda stuck her tongue out at him. "So I'm relegated to the spare room, huh?"

"If you don't behave yourself. But if you're a good girl, I'll see what we can work out."

Brenda clenched her fists. "Oooohh, Andy Flynn! I could just smack you!"

"Wait'll we get home. I don't want to have a wreck."

"I hope we can make it until November without me killing you!"

Andy snickered. "And you were the one who wanted me to move in with you. Re-thinking that?"

"Of course not," Brenda huffed. "I know you're just being infuriating – as usual."

"Situation normal, then," he laughed.

"Something like that, I suppose," she answered. "You know, when you start that smart-aleck foolishness, I just need to laugh at you. I need to stop snapping at the bait like a big ol' bass."

"Might be a good idea. You don't have to worry about Joel, though. He's welcome in my bedroom any time."

"Meaning?" Brenda said suspiciously.

"Meaning I like the cat." As he pulled into his parking space, Andy looked at Brenda. "Are you feeling, you know, hormonal or something?"

"Hormonal? What is _that_ supposed to mean?" Now she was indignant.

"Nothin'! Just you've been ready to fly off the handle at me for two days. Gets a little old after a while. If I've done something, tell me so I can apologize. If not, wouldja let up on me a little?"

Brenda looked shamefaced. "Honey, I'm the one who needs to apologize. I guess I just let this whole thing with Charlie really get to me, and I've been taking it out on you. I am so sorry. You're always so good to me and I've been taking you for granted. Forgive me, please?"

Andy grinned at her and said, "How about we go inside and I'll show you how much I forgive you?"

"That's the best thing I've heard all day." Brenda leaned over to kiss Andy, and the urgency in his lips told her she was certainly forgiven, and they'd better get inside, or Andy was going to make good on his threat of "christening" the back seat of his car.

Much later, Andy and Brenda were snuggling and she sighed and said, "Go ahead and tell Provenza we'll go to Baja. I know I am going to regret this. I just know I am, but I'll go along with it. But, maybe if I'm along, _you'll_ stay out of trouble, at least." She pulled the blanket over her shoulder. "You are the only man on earth who could talk me into this, you know it? But you have persuasive tactics even the CIA can't match."

"That's a pretty good compliment," Andy said with a chuckle. "And you would not believe what you could talk me into doing. But I'm not gonna tell you. You might use it against me one day."

Brenda brought Andy's head to hers and kissed him. "I'm glad you still love me," she said.

"Well, I still do," he answered, pulling Brenda close to him. She helped keep a few of his demons at bay, too.


	22. Chapter 22: Down Mexico Way

**A/N:** Yep, finally an update here, too. The muse is active. We get a little Provenza and Flynn type foolishness here, which was tremendous amounts of fun to write. And yep, for sticking with me, goodness is your reward! LOL. Please keep the reviews coming!

_Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer."_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 22: Down Mexico Way<strong>

Brenda was dozing when Andy nudged her. "We're landing, Brenda," he said.

She rubbed her eyes and looked out the window of their charter plane. She could see the ocean and the airport beneath them. It was a beautiful day and the flight had been smooth. Brenda was still skeptical, though. This was a Louis Provenza scheme, after all, and something was bound to go wrong. There was no telling what, but Brenda was prepared for nearly anything.

The three got off the plane and cleared customs with no trouble, since they all had passports. Andy's Spanish was sparse and Jersey-accented, but the residents seemed to appreciate the effort and they were able to get to a rental car agency with little trouble. The trouble started there.

"I am telling you, I _bought_ insurance before we left the States!" Provenza was attempting to arrange for a car rental and the agent was not being helpful.

"Sorry señor. You must buy it here."

"I have it already! From a Mexican company! I'm not paying an extra fifty bucks a day for car insurance when I already have it! I bought the policy!" Provenza's face was getting red.

"That policy only covers driving – not the car. You must buy coverage here," the agent said.

Provenza opened up the insurance policy folder. "See? It says right here, 'Policy covers the driver and any vehicle, public, private or rental.' See? Right here!"

"I am sorry señor. You must buy the insurance here."

Brenda looked at Andy. "I knew it. I knew there'd be a snag."

"C'mon. This whole car rental thing is always a shell game. He'll work it out."

She snorted. "Doesn't look like he's working a whole lot out to me." Brenda opened her capacious purse and started rifling through its contents.

"What are you looking for?" Andy asked.

"I'll let you know when I find it," she answered, looking in every pocket and zippered pouch. "Got it!" she crowed, and pulled a small card from the intestinal cavity of her handbag. She took her passport and the card and marched to the counter with it.

"Excuse me, Lieutenant. Let me see if I can help you with this situation."

"Oh, I've got it, Chief. No problem," Provenza said.

"Yes, there is a problem," she replied and turned to the counter agent. "Señor," she began, "_Yo quiero hablo con su gerente muy pronto, por favor._" With Brenda's accent, even Andy had trouble understanding her. It was funny, he mused, since he had heard her speak French and German, which she learned in the CIA, with no trace of a Southern accent. In fact, he heard her talking in beautifully precise French while on the phone to a former colleague. It gave him an instant hard on. Her Spanish, though, was comically awful. She had been listening to some audio course she bought, so the sentence was correct, though.

The agent looked at Brenda like she came from the moon, but he went to get his manager, since that was who she asked for.

The man came from the back and Brenda glared at him. "Hola, señor," she began. "Your agent insists on charging us for insurance. We have a pre-paid policy that covers the driver and the vehicle. Here it is."

"Señora," the man began, "It is the law in Mexico to have insurance."

"And we have it! See? From a Mexican agent! Here's the policy!"

The man smiled and said, as if he were talking to a child, "Señora, I see this policy. But you must have more insurance. I will discount it even. Twenty-five dollars per day."

Brenda's face turned mutinous and Andy chuckled inwardly. This dude didn't know what was about to hit him. She smacked her passport and the card down on the counter in front of the man. "Do you see that? Do you know what that is?"

The man peered at the card and his eyes widened. "_Federale, señora_?"

"_Si. La federale_. C. I. A. _Comprende_?" In her accent, it came out as "kawmprinday?" but the man took her meaning.

"_Si, señora. Comprendo_." He looked at the policy again and then at the card. "It seems we have been mistaken. Your policy is, indeed sufficient for driving in Mexico. There will be no extra fees levied. We will have your car ready in just a moment." He said something to the agent in rapid-fire Spanish. The man blanched for a moment, but nodded and left the office.

Brenda smiled at the man. "_Gracias. Muchas, muchas gracias_." She handed the policy to Provenza, collected her card and passport and returned to her seat beside Andy.

"What's that card?" he asked. She handed it to him. "Brenda, you haven't been with the CIA in over ten years!" Andy exclaimed.

"They don't know that, and it solved the problem, didn't it?"

"Yeah, but isn't it just slightly illegal to be flashing that thing around if you're not with the agency anymore, and how do you still have it? Don't you have to turn that stuff in when you resign?"

"I did turn in my official ID. This is my temporary card. I forgot I had it. I found it after I moved to LA and decided it _just_ might come in handy once in a while. It has."

Andy sighed. "I'll visit you at Leavenworth. I promise."

Provenza harrumphed. "Don't sweat it, Flynn. Nobody around here is gonna check up on that ID, I promise you."

"But weren't you supposed to like, shred that thing or something?" Andy asked.

Brenda rolled her eyes. "Probably, but the U.S. government can't keep up with everything. Why do you think it takes so long to get anything done?"

Andy shook his head. "I'll never tell, but Brenda, be careful where you use that, all right? Those guys in black helicopters might come for you one day."

"That's just conspiracy theorists talking. Black helicopters, my eye. I saw two the whole time I was at Langley and they were both camouflage."

"Settle down, Flynn. You're paranoid," Provenza said.

"She's got the expired CIA ID card and I'm the paranoid one. Yeah, right," he muttered.

Finally, the car was ready, Provenza glanced at the letter from the realtor and they headed to the resort. They drove for a half-hour and Andy said, "I thought you said this place was close."

"It is," Provenza answered. "Just a couple more miles. Casa del Playa in Cabo San Lucas. I even Googled it." They drove for a few minutes and Provenza said, "See? Here we are!"

There they were, indeed. The "resort" looked like the hotel that time forgot. The pink stucco walls were worn, the sidewalk was cracked and even the palm trees in front looked scrawny and neglected.

"You've got to be kidding," Andy said. "I did not just fly two hours, risk getting apprehended by the men in black and put up with thirty minutes of your crap driving to stay at Hotel La Cucaracha!" His voice rose as he spoke and he was yelling when he finished. "You were right, Brenda. On the money. I should have known this was going to be a disaster!"

Provenza looked hurt. "Flynn! C'mon! Maybe it's one of those places where they have an inner courtyard where all the nice stuff is and they keep the front like this to discourage criminals."

Andy shook his head. "Well, one thing's for sure. There's not a criminal on the West Coast who'd knock over this _dump_." He was tired, hungry and ready to shoot his partner.

Brenda said, "Lieutenant, may I see that letter, please?"

"Sure, Chief." He handed it to her.

She put on her glasses and perused it carefully. "Lieutenant Provenza, I've been telling you for months that you're going to have to break down, swallow your pride and BUY A PAIR OF READING GLASSES! This is Cabo San Lucas! The resort where we're supposed to be is back in San Jose del Cabo! Oh, Lieutenant! For heaven's sake! We drove twenty miles out of our way! We really didn't even need the car! I saw at the airport where they have shuttles to the hotels in San Jose! Oh, good Lord. Well, turn it around and let's head back to San Jose del Cabo."

Provenza at least had the decency to look shamefaced. "I'm sorry Chief. I guess this screw up is mine."

"Damn right it is," Andy growled. "So Brenda, this wasn't my botch job. Remember that, please."

"I will, Andy," she sighed. "Let's just get to where we're supposed to be."

* * *

><p>By the time they got back to San Jose del Cabo, Brenda was ready to shoot Andy and Provenza. They had sniped at each other like an old married couple the whole way.<p>

Finally, Brenda spotted a sign that said "Casa del Playa" and Provenza eased the car into the driveway. "This is it, I promise," he said. "All we have to do is get the unit keys from the office and we're all set. We've had our glitch for this mission."

Andy snorted. "That's what Tom Hanks said right before the oxygen tank exploded in 'Apollo 13.'"

"Andy! Hush!" Brenda snapped.

"You're gonna eat your words, Flynn…" Provenza began.

"Provenza! HUSH!" Brenda looked at the two men. "All right, Lieutenants. That's enough. Let's just please get this done, if possible."

"O.K., Chief," Provenza said, as he curved around the drive and a lovely structure appeared. It was a two-story building, white, with graceful scrolled ironwork and beautiful landscaping. "See? I told you. Paradise."

"Well, it certainly looks promising, Lieutenant," Brenda said from the backseat, with a hand on Andy's shoulder to keep him quiet.

"Oh, it's great. It really is. I'll just pull up here and run in to get the keys." He drove under the sheltered walkway.

"You do that, Lieutenant. We'll wait here."

"O.K., Chief. Back in two shakes!" he exclaimed. He trotted inside the building.

Andy sat in the front, arms crossed disgustedly, working madly on his third toothpick since they got in the car.

"It's not a total loss yet, Andy," Brenda chuckled. "This place looks really nice."

"Yeah. Until the next thing happens. I swear every time I'm not letting him talk me into going along with another of his stupid ideas. And I do it. I've got to get with my sponsor about setting boundaries with the old fart."

They waited long enough for Brenda to start becoming antsy again, when Provenza came out of the front door with a dejected expression.

"He looks like a whipped hound," Brenda said. Andy just shook his head.

Provenza opened the door. "Folks, there's been a, well, a minor complication."

"_How_ minor?" Andy growled.

"Not much, not really. It's just that the manager said there was some confusion with the keys and he mailed them to my buddy two days ago and the place to get keys made here has already closed for the day." All this came out in a rush.

"How many ways can I kill you, Provenza?" Andy said.

"Gentlemen!" Brenda exclaimed. "Do you have a solution to offer us, Lieutenant?"

"I do. There's one open unit where we can stay tonight, until he can get the keys to the other two units made in the morning. The unit has a queen sized bed and a sofa bed. Naturally, I'll sleep on the sofa bed."

"Oh, hell yeah, you will," Andy said. "All of us in the same room. Oh, my God."

"Well, Andy, at least we have a place to sleep, and this is a nice facility," Brenda said, trying to appease the extremely irritated man in her life. "So let's get inside and then find something to eat, how about it?"

"Good idea, Chief," Provenza said, not liking the look in Andy's eyes.

"Shut up. We don't need to know what _you_ think is a good idea!" Andy snapped.

Provenza hung his head. "Look. I am really sorry about this, all right? I honestly thought this would be no problem."

"We understand, Lieutenant. Andy's just hungry and irritable. You know, like a five-year-old," Brenda answered, smacking the back of his head for emphasis. He jumped, but didn't say anything.

When Provenza got the room opened, they went inside.

"Well now, this is nice, Lieutenant," Brenda said. "It's very clean and comfortable. That sofa bed looks cushy. And the bedroom is separate, so that's good too." She looked over at Andy, but all he did was pick up their bags. He took them in the bedroom and fiddled with the thermostat on the air-conditioner until it came on.

Meanwhile, Brenda was fumbling in her purse again. She produced a granola bar and when Andy came out of the bedroom, she handed it to him. "Here. Eat it. Now," she said.

"Thanks," he answered and started on the snack. He didn't offer Brenda a bite, but she was just glad she got all five fingers back after giving him the granola bar.

They went to a restaurant the manager recommended, and after downing a staggering number of shrimp tacos, Andy was feeling more in charity with the world. "Sorry I took your head off, man," he said to Provenza.

"Well, I understand. This isn't exactly the paradise I envisioned, either."

"I know. But the pool looks awesome, so when we get back, I'm catching some rays, maybe going for a swim after while."

* * *

><p>Andy made good on his word when they got back to the room. He dug his trunks out of his duffle, put them on, and towel in hand, went down to the pool. He took off his T-shirt, put the towel on the back of the lounge chair and lay down. He adjusted his sunglasses to cut the glare and closed his eyes. He sighed. His cell was in the room, and he didn't care if he ever answered it again. He was tired, but at least he wasn't still hungry, so he made himself comfortable in the sunshine. When the sun started feeling too warm, he flipped over and let his back warm up. Something about that sun eased the ache from his bones, and he could hear the waves on the beach. They were on the bay side, so the water wasn't as turbulent as the Pacific side. It was peaceful.<p>

"You're gonna broil like a lobster," came Brenda's voice.

"Nah. I just tan. I don't burn," he mumbled, only slightly roused from his somnolence.

"When you cook, don't say I didn't warn you," she answered.

Andy did look over long enough to see Brenda. She wore a floral one-piece suit, and had on one of her broad-brimmed floppy hats, and huge sunglasses. She also carried an outsized beach tote and towel. He chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

"You look like a Florida snowbird. Big sunglasses, tote, floppy hat and all."

"Oh, you! Just because I wear sunscreen!"

"Why did you bring that giant bag out here, anyway? Don't you schlep enough crap around in that purse of yours?"

She made a noise. "It does have sunscreen, a couple of bottles of water, in case _you_ were thirsty, by the way, a book, and room for my flip-flops if I want to swim."

"That thing has enough room for flip-flops for everybody here," he said, turning his head.

"Oh, hush. I'd feel better if you let me put a little sunscreen on your back. I can just see the skin cancers popping up."

"Yeah, suit yourself," Andy answered.

"Thank you," she said. She started applying the sunscreen to his back, and as she did, she said, "Well, at least we won't have to move but once. Those people called and said they would be here by noon, so we can wait until they leave to put our stuff in the units after you and Provenza show them."

"I'm not 'showing' anybody anything. I'll unlock the door, wait while they look and lock up. Provenza can give them the sales pitch."

"Well, whatever. But at least this place did turn out to be really nice. You have to admit it's a great place."

"It's nice, no doubt. I'm just still a little pissed that I don't get to see whatever it is you had wrapped up in that pink and black paper."

"You'll get to see it tomorrow night. I promise."

Andy raised up on his elbows and looked at Brenda over his sunglasses. She grinned. He looked just like a movie star. "I guess anticipation is half the fun, right?"

"Always. It's worth the wait."

Brenda's hands felt incredible on his skin. They'd had a busy week and both had been tired after work. So Andy had been looking forward to this weekend, thinking he'd have Brenda and their room all to themselves. It was frustrating not to have the opportunity tonight, but he'd wait.

Louis Provenza could see Andy and Brenda from the window of their unit. He knew Andy was annoyed, and he couldn't blame him. He watched as Brenda put the sunscreen on Andy's back, and he was more than a little jealous. If he had a woman like Miss Atlanta in his life, putting sunscreen on his back, he'd be ill about no privacy, himself. Louis sighed. He knew he wasn't easy to live with, but if Andy could find someone, surely, there was a woman out there for him, at least for a good time, for a little while.

* * *

><p>Brenda wasn't particularly pleased about sharing a bathroom with two other men, but one of them was Andy, so she'd deal with it. Still, it was annoying to have to cover up completely, since she certainly wasn't about to give Provenza a peep show – much as he'd enjoy it, she thought ruefully, as she combed her hair. Thank goodness she'd brought one set of sensible pajamas and a robe. She helped Provenza make up the sofa bed while Andy showered and then went into the bedroom. She found the book she'd stashed in her beach tote and settled on the bed to read a while.<p>

Andy came into the bedroom, toweling his hair dry. "Provenza said the manager told him they do a pretty good breakfast buffet by the pool. So that's good."

"That is nice." She looked at Andy. "My Lord, you're brown as you can be!"

"I told you I don't burn," he said. "It's the Italian."

"And I have to wait until tomorrow night to show you how sexy you are with that tan."

"Don't remind me," he answered. He stretched out on the bed. "And we might as well just turn the lights out and sleep, because I can't even touch you with Provenza twenty feet away.

"I know. I'd feel pretty funny, too," Brenda answered, and she crawled under the sheet and turned out the light on the side table. "But I can kiss you goodnight," she said.

"Oh yeah," he answered, and he took her in his arms and kissed her sweetly. Letting her go was frustrating, but he managed to do it and cuddled her to him as they slept.

* * *

><p>"Flynn! Flynn!" Provenza's loud whispers woke Andy. The man was looking around the door.<p>

Andy looked at the clock. It was 9:30 a.m. He got up and motioned Provenza into the other room. "What is it, man?"

"I got the keys! I got up and went downstairs and got the keys. So everything's on schedule and we can do what we came down here to do."

Andy rubbed his eyes. "Well, that's good news, anyway. Did you check out the buffet?"

Provenza nodded. "Yeah. It's fantastic. They've got it out until eleven, so you've got some time to get Miss Atlanta awake and down there." He raised his eyebrows. "Did you two, um, get any sleep?"

"Yeah. That's all we did. You didn't hear anything, did you?"

"No, as hard as I listened."

Andy clapped the man on the shoulder. "See? I knew you would. So, I'll go get Brenda up and we'll see about getting some food. Now I'm up, I'm hungry." He went into the bedroom and gently woke Brenda.

She opened her eyes and smiled sleepily at Andy until she remembered they weren't alone. "Shoot," she murmured. "Guess I need to get up."

"Provenza said the breakfast is pretty good. I know you're hungry."

"I am and I hope they have a gallon of coffee."

"Me too."

Brenda and Andy ate and when they came up, Provenza was talking animatedly on his cell.

"Oh yes. We're ready to show you these units. It's a fantastic place. Well worth the time and money!"

Andy grimaced at Brenda. "He sounds like a used car salesman." Brenda giggled at that. It was an apt reference, no doubt.

Provenza clicked off the call and rubbed his hands together. "They're at the airport! And we get a thousand dollars!"

"O.K.," Andy said. "The sooner we can get them in and out of here, the happier I'll be. Give me a key."

Provenza handed Andy one of the keys. "It's gonna be great!" He walked outside.

"Yeah, great. Well, Brenda, I guess you can get your stuff together so we can get into the unit once these people leave."

"I will. And the sooner, the better," she said.

"You got that right," he answered, grinning devilishly at her.

Andy went down to the office and greeted the prospective time share buyers with Provenza. The two couples seemed nice enough, until one of the wives surreptitiously pinched Andy's rear end. He shot her a nasty look, but she was all innocence. So, he herded them to the unit, making sure he stayed behind them. He had to unlock the door, but he immediately opened it and stood to one side so the couple could enter the unit. Even so, the wife got a lot closer to him than he wanted her to. She deliberately rubbed up against him and giggled.

"After you, ma'am," he growled, sounding as uncooperative as possible.

"So are you a realtor?" the husband asked Andy.

"No. I'm a detective with the Major Crimes unit of the Los Angeles Police Department," he answered.

"Really?" the wife breathed. "How interesting! A detective! Well, well. One of our men in blue!" she purred.

Andy felt sick at his stomach, but he said nothing. He nearly panicked when the husband walked out on to the balcony overlooking the pool. The wife immediately turned to him.

"So, detective, do _you_ have a time share here?" Her voice was pure high fructose corn syrup.

"It's Lieutenant, and no, I don't."

"Oh, _Lieutenant_! What a crying shame. Just too bad. Do you at least come to Baja often?"

"Nope," he said.

"Like I said - a real shame." She moved closer to him. "We live in L.A. Maybe I could look you up."

Andy prayed for patience. "Why don't you go look at the balcony with your husband?" he said.

The woman grimaced at him. "Sure. Why not?" she said without enthusiasm, but did as he suggested. Andy sighed in relief.

The couple finally left, but not without the wife making double entendres the whole time, and attempting to get as close to Andy as she could. But 25 years on the force had given Andy the ability to avoid being touched, and he used every gambit he knew to stay out of arm's reach of the woman.

When they got back to the unit, Brenda could see Andy was agitated. "What happened?" she asked.

"I'll tell you later," he said. "Let's get moved out." They got their bags and moved them into the unit Andy had just showed. He reminded Provenza to call the front desk to get housekeeping to clean the room and when he closed the door to their new digs, the first thing he did was take Brenda in his arms and kiss her soundly. "I don't really want to wait until tonight," he said to her, kissing her neck.

Andy's mouth always felt too good, but Brenda pulled away. "I promise it'll be worth it if you do. And I want to look around at one of the real units." She looked at the spacious living area. "Oh, this is nicer than the other place." She went to the bedroom. "This is really huge. And look at the bathroom! It's a whirlpool!"

"Obviously the other unit is where the help stays," Andy dryly observed.

"Probably," Brenda agreed. "Let's call a cab and go into town. San Jose is supposed to be really pretty."

"O.K.," Andy agreed. He called a taxi and they went into town and spent the day being tourists. Andy insisted on keeping Brenda's cell in his pocket and he wouldn't even let her check her messages. "I'll check them and let you know if there's anything important."

Brenda made a few purchases and they ate an early supper in town before getting a cab back to the resort. Andy texted Provenza where they were, and ended with, "See you tomorrow."

Provenza got the text and sighed. He could take a cab to town too, but wasn't sure there was anything for him there. So, he settled in to watch the Major League Baseball playoffs on satellite.

* * *

><p>Brenda bathed and washed her hair again and blew it dry into the curls Andy loved to touch. Then she pinned it into a loose updo. He loved her curls, and even more, he loved taking pins from her hair. She went into the bedroom from the bathroom and found what Andy had spotted in the pink paper. She unwrapped the items and donned them, looking at her reflection with satisfaction. She had a feeling she wouldn't be wearing them long.<p>

Andy showered too, and wondered what in the world Brenda had brought with her. Something good had to come out of that pink paper with its black ribbon. Target didn't wrap anything like that, for sure, and if Brenda had been to some lingerie boutique, he knew he was in for a treat.

He opened the bedroom door when she called him and his jaw nearly dropped. She had one tiny light on and it threw shadows across the room, but the warm light set Brenda's skin glowing. She wore a cream short lace robe, tied at the waist. He could see something underneath, but he intended to find out what it was. He went to her and put his hands on her shoulders, then trailed them down the front of the robe. "Can I see what this is hiding?"

"Of course," she said, her voice low and sexy.

Andy untied the sash and the robe fell open. She wore a cream chemise to her knees. It was sheer silk, gathered under her breasts and ruffled at the bottom. Andy licked his lips unconsciously.

Brenda saw the motion, though, and the glitter in his eyes. "Like it?"

"Oh, yeah," he said, sliding the robe off her shoulders. He ran his hands down the silk and Brenda shivered. Andy grinned at that and deliberately touched her breasts, flicking her pebbled nipples through the material. Then he hitched the chemise up and brought one hand up Brenda's thigh. "And nothing else on. Good thinking," he said. "Because I want to take you while you're wearing this." He steered her to the bed and sat her down on it while he started taking his shorts off.

"Let me help you with those," Brenda said. She slid the boxer briefs down, and as Andy stepped out of them, she touched him and nuzzled against his hardness.

"Watch it, babe," he said, pushing her back to the mattress. She scooted back up to the pillows and Andy followed her. He kissed her again, his tongue stroking hers with the skill she loved. "I want you, Brenda," he said, as he broke the kiss, and started tonguing her ears and neck.

She could hardly think as Andy took his incredible mouth down her neck, between her breasts, and then suckled them through the silk. When he moved his mouth, the cool wetness of the fabric overwhelmed her senses.

When she felt him touching her, his fingers expertly finding her wetness, she arched her back and whimpered. He touched her for a long while, then moved his fingers and she watched in a haze of passion as he tasted her moisture from his fingers, closing his eyes in pleasure as he did. That nearly sent her over the edge, and she gasped, "Andy, please."

He leveled himself over her and eased into her body. The silk of her lingerie covering her skin, and against his, was intensely erotic and he had to put a hammerlock on his self-control. As he moved, Brenda raised one knee and it seemed like Andy penetrated even deeper into her body. He could feel it too, and it was nearly his undoing. Still, he managed to hold himself together and kept moving, Brenda matching him and calling his name.

"I want you, Andy," she kept saying, bringing him closer to her. "You feel so good inside me." His body was so strong and Brenda loved it when he took it slow like this, letting the passion build for both of them. She didn't know how he did it, but nothing felt any better. She ran her hands up and down his chest, touching his nipples, wishing this could last forever.

He was kissing her neck roughly, his teeth grazing her skin and the slight sharpness brought her closer to her climax. Finally, Andy brought his teeth down just a little more firmly, and she heard him whisper what he wanted from her in explicit words and she went over the cliff, clawing at his shoulders, meeting his thrusts with her hips, screaming his name. Feeling the spasms of her body around his threw Andy over the edge too and his cries were what Brenda wanted to hear, knowing she had pleased him and finding great satisfaction in that.

As Andy relaxed, he rolled them to their sides and Brenda could feel him pulling her chemise up and he brought it over her head and tossed it across the room. "I want you to fall asleep in my arms naked," he said, stroking her back and kissing her neck softly.

"Sounds good to me," she answered before whispering her love for him in his ear.

"And you know I love you," he murmured, nearly asleep, as always. But she didn't mind. They had all night long.


	23. Chapter 23: Life, Etc

**A/N:** This may not be quite the ending you expected, but honestly- where else could I take this? LOL. When it gets into nothing but the day-to-day minutiae, it's time to let the characters take their bows and ring the curtain down. But I was still itching to have someone on the MC crew confront Goldman the rat fink. LOL. Hope you enjoy the finale, as anticlimactic as it may be. I think I tied up all the loose ends. If not, let me know and I'll do an epilogue. Thanks to all those who took the time to review this long thing. It started as a one-shot. Sheesh! Anyway, please R&R here, too.

_Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer."_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 23: Life, etc.<strong>

"Brenda, of all the people I see, you have to be one of the most – interesting," Phlippa said. Brenda, Andy and Provenza had gotten back from Baja without incident, to Brenda's great relief, and the realtor had paid the men each an extra $500 for the issues they had to deal with.

"He should have paid _me_ $1,500 for putting up with those two," Brenda had told Buzz, who could always be counted on to lend a sympathetic ear.

But now, Brenda was in Philippa's office, and had explained to her that she and Joel were now living with Andy, until her new house was move-in ready. Philippa shook her head. "I advised you to keep it platonic for six months, but instead, in six months, you've moved in with him. Aren't you the one who talked about how hesitant you were to let Fritz move in, to set a wedding date, to even look for another house? And now, you've just chucked it all and moved into an apartment with a lieutenant from your squad, and bought a house where you'd like him to live with you?" She sighed. "You're a riddle wrapped in an enigma sometimes, Brenda."

"I haven't chucked it all. I put all my things in storage. I never liked that furniture anyway, so I'll be glad to buy new stuff."

"Have you ever considered this might be what's known as the geographical cure? That is, you move somewhere, thinking you'll find happiness there?" Philippa asked.

Brenda looked puzzled. "Never thought about it, but I don't think so. Honestly, Fritzie is the one who liked the house so well. Not me."

"Yet you resisted when he suggested getting a bigger place."

"We never could find one that was convenient to work. This place is."

"All right. So how's your relationship with Andy?"

Brenda smiled. "We're doing better. I read over those suggestions you gave me every single day, and they really do help me keep from picking fights with him, and to discuss issues in a healthy way. He's happy about it."

"I imagine so. Walking on eggshells isn't fun, Brenda."

"I know and I try to keep that in mind, always. And I've found that mostly, when I've wanted to get into it with Andy is when he's not doing something I want him to do. Or not the way I think it ought to be done."

Philippa grinned at Brenda. "Was this such a revelation for you?"

"In a way. I mean, I've always immediately put blame on the other person. But now I'm seeing why I do some of the things I do." She sighed. "I'm just a mess, I suppose. I can't believe Andy puts up with me."

"He loves you, and don't you ever take that for granted, Brenda. So tell me how you're working it out living together."

"Fritz used to get irritated with me because I left dirty dishes on the table, or in the den. He would just take them to the sink and tell me he wished I'd put them away."

"Do you still leave dirty dishes all over Andy's place?"

Brenda grinned ruefully. "Not nearly as often anymore."

"Why not? What does Andy say?"

"Not a word. He just piles all my dishes up on my side of the bed and they don't get moved until I move them to the sink."

"And how did that go over?"

"Not well, I admit. Not at first. It made me so mad I slept on the sofa, and he slept in the bed with those dishes on the other side. For two nights, yet. And then, I tried to make it up with him and after he went to bed, I tried to get in the bed with him. He picked me up and dumped me on the sofa. He said he'd either sleep with me or my dishes, but not both."

Philippa started laughing at this and Brenda thought she never would stop. "Oh, my, Brenda!" Philippa exclaimed. "That is wonderful! Andy really knows how to get you right where you live. See, he's very good at picking his battles. And you know he's right. You're in his house. You shouldn't do that."

"I know, but I just don't even think about it. It's not deliberate."

"I'm sure, but having to sleep on the sofa while Andy slept with the dishes got your attention, didn't it?"

"It did," Brenda admitted.

"So it was effective."

"You could say that."

"And long term? What are your plans? Have you talked about it?"

Brenda shrugged. "Not so much, not really. A little, sort of out there kind of thinking, but he hasn't asked me to marry him, if that's what you're getting at."

"Have you asked him?"

"_Me_? Isn't that kind of his responsibility?"

"All depends on your relationship, but I suspect Andy would rather do the asking. He may be waiting until you're in your other house, and things have settled down."

"Could be," Brenda agreed. "But Philippa, we've both got two marriages behind us, and mine with Fritz wasn't in great shape when he died. I know he's a little gun shy, and I probably am, too."

Philippa leaned back in her chair. "You know Brenda, people have lived together without being married for years. It can be done. Some people are just opposed to the idea and say 'it's just a piece of paper.' In some ways, yes, but it's also a symbol of commitment. If a couple wants to keep company for years without actually getting married, I always wonder about their level of real commitment. Will they hang in there when times are bad? It's always a consideration."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that moving in together should always be thought of as a step toward marriage, if you're doing it in that order. You should do it with an eye toward getting married fairly soon. How long did you and Fritz live together before you got married?"

"Oh, two, two and a half years? Something like that, I think."

"So he always wanted to get married, and you wanted to keep company, right?"

Brenda thought about this. "I was scared to get married. Just scared of the whole marriage – thing. Fritz was a wonderful man. I was scared I couldn't love him as much as he deserved. And I don't think I really did."

"And that bothers you?"

"A lot."

Philippa nodded. "Do you think you can love Andy as much as he deserves? With your whole heart?"

"Andy, well, he understands me in a way I don't think Fritz ever did. I always felt like I was a puzzle to Fritz. But Andy gets me. Sometimes he knows what I'm going to do before I know. He just understands me at a level Fritz never did. Because of that, maybe I trust Andy more with my whole heart."

"That's a wise observation. So you need to work at trusting Andy even more than you already do. I think he's more than earned it. And you're getting better at setting appropriate boundaries. So you're making progress, Brenda. You're in a better place now than you were when we started talking."

Brenda smiled. "Well, it's a comfort to know I'm improving, anyway."

"You are. Really. So for next time, let's talk about this whole trust thing in more detail, and I want you to work on putting Andy before your job. I know that was also an issue with you and Fritz. It doesn't need to be an issue with you and Andy, all right? I know he understands, and he's willing to allow you to do it to a certain extent, but you've got to learn to leave things in your team's hands. They know how to work a case. Let them do their jobs and stop trying to micromanage every detail. Everyone will benefit, I promise."

"I'll do it, Philippa. Or I'll do the best I can," Brenda promised.

When she got home, Andy was in his recliner and Joel was lying on his chest. Both were asleep. Joel did look up and chirrup at her, but made no move to greet her, otherwise. Much as he had been Fritzie's cat, he was obviously now Andy's cat.

Brenda looked at Andy. He was so handsome, and in sleep, his face was almost boyish. She leaned over to give him a kiss on his forehead. His eyes opened lazily. "Hey babe. Me and Joel were just taking it easy."

"You go ahead. I learned a new recipe in my cooking class and I want to try it, so I went to the grocery store for the stuff."

"What's the recipe?"

"Mushroom and shrimp risotto."

"Sounds great," he said, sleepily.

"I think it will be. So you two go ahead and snooze, and I'll take care of dinner."

"Good plan" Andy murmured, before he dozed off again.

Some while later, a delicious fragrance coming from the kitchen woke Andy up and he eased out of the recliner and went into the kitchen, where Brenda was diligently stirring a pot of risotto.

"That smells wonderful, babe," he said. "Need a hand stirring?"

Brenda answered, "Oh, would you? My arm is starting to ache. But it's nearly done!"

Andy took over the task and Brenda watched as he stirred with practiced ease. "You've done that before," she said.

"Once or twice," he answered. "Grandma had arthritis, so when she cooked risotto, she drafted one of us to stir it. The advantage was we got the first serving out of the pot." He chuckled at the memory.

"Mama really tried to teach me to cook, but I never had the patience for it," Brenda said. "I wish I'd picked up more then, but I just never did. Like I never paid any attention when Daddy was fixing a car. Wish I'd done that, too. Maybe I wouldn't be such a dunce where automobiles are concerned."

Andy grinned as he stirred. "Well, you have other talents."

"You think so, huh?" she said.

"Yeah."

"I talked to my realtor today. She said our house will definitely be ready by November first."

Andy nodded. "That's good to know. I guess I need to start packing up, then."

"Guess so. But you know, Joel and I have been very happy here." Brenda leaned her elbows on the counter.

"I'm glad. It's not a bad place for a single guy."

"No, not at all. Aren't you looking forward to having more room, though?"

"I am. You know, we haven't seen Charlie around since she stopped by before you moved out."

Brenda laughed. "We won't, either. She pledged a sorority, and all her time is taken up with that. Fortunately, as awful as it sounds."

Andy gave her a sympathetic sidelong glance and taking a spoon, tasted the risotto. "It's done. And it's delicious," he said, moving the pan off the burner. "You did a good job, hon."

"Thank you, sugar," she answered.

Andy took the salad bowl from Brenda and put his arms around her. "Babe, are you planning on this being a long-term thing?"

"What?"

"Us."

"Of course I am! Why would you ask?" Brenda was puzzled.

"Just making sure. Because, before we move into that house together, I think we need to be more than just shacked up."

"More, how?" Was he getting around to asking what she thought he was?

Andy picked up Brenda's left hand. "This kind of more," he answered, and kissed her ring finger.

"I want to Andy, but what about our jobs? Will is only tolerating us together, now. I don't know if he will countenance us being married."

"So, we go to San Diego, get married at the courthouse, have a weekend at Roselands, come back and act like nothing happened. I'll still get my mail at my post office box, so I don't even have to change my address, except with personnel."

"And not tell anyone?"

"Not a soul. Well, I guess you'll need to tell Philippa, but other than that, nobody. Not for a while, anyway."

Brenda could feel a little bubble of happiness start to expand inside her. "When?"

"Whenever."

Brenda kissed Andy softly. "Yes, Andy. Absolutely. Yes."

* * *

><p><strong>February 2012<strong>

It was a dreary day in Los Angeles. The temperature was unusually chilly and it had drizzled all day. The crew knew about Peter Goldman's federal case against Brenda, and the mood had been somber for several weeks. Andy had lost count of the times he had held Brenda while she sobbed in his arms after work.

He was doing paperwork, as usual, when he heard Provenza growl, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Andy looked up to see Peter Goldman standing in the murder room, briefcase in hand.

"I would appreciate it if Deputy Chief Johnson had a moment to see me," he said.

"Short answer: no," Provenza snapped. "She's in Atlanta, visiting her family." Andy had accompanied her over the weekend, but had come back early. Brenda needed the time away.

"Oh, I see. Well, I had a little proposal I wanted to talk over with her."

"You can contact her attorney and ask him. His name is Gavin Q. Baker," Provenza snarled.

"Or, if I could speak with some of you, perhaps…"

"Get out of here, Goldman," Sanchez said.

"Now, you're just being uncooperative," Goldman said. "I merely wanted to see if Chief Johnson might be amenable to talking about this situation."

"With her attorney present," Andy said, standing up.

Now this, Goldman didn't like. He could outrun Provenza. But he knew about Lieutenant Flynn and Detective Sanchez. If these men were sufficiently pissed off, either was capable of inflicting serious mayhem.

"Lieutenant Flynn, I merely wish to speak with Chief Johnson."

"Mr. Goldman, she isn't here. She's in Atlanta. Now, if you don't mind, we have jobs to do that don't include you. Time for you to leave." Andy's tone was firm, but not threatening. Somehow, that was even more chilling.

"Well, tell her that I'll be back to speak with her. I know she'll be interested in what I have to say."

"Mr. Goldman, a word of advice: do not contact my – Chief Johnson, period. Contact her attorney." Now, Andy sounded threatening.

"I have every right to speak with Chief Johnson, if I have a legitimate proposal to offer her."

Andy gave the man a look that, Goldman had to admit, made him more than a little nervous. "In the Chief's office. Now."

"Lieutenant, I really don't think…"

"_Now_, Goldman, or I'm having four uniforms walk you out of here the hard way."

He looked around and the stony faces of Brenda's squad told him no help was to be had. So, he shrugged and went into Brenda's office. Andy closed the door and the blinds.

Andy turned to Goldman. "All right, you dirty little worm, here's the deal. You don't talk to Chief Johnson. You don't come in this murder room. You don't call her. You don't speak to her if you see her on the street. I can and will get a restraining order on you if I have to. There's not a judge in this county who wouldn't grant one, and you know it. When you come in here, you're keeping her from conducting business in the interests of public safety."

Goldman interrupted, "The public isn't safe with that woman…" he began, and found himself against the wall of Brenda's office, with a completely pissed-off Andy Flynn standing in front of him, a hand on the wall on either side of him.

"I repeat myself. Stay away from the Chief. Unless you're speaking with her attorney, or in the courtroom, she does not exist for you! And believe me, I'll be happy to call Baker and tell him about your little visit here today. I'm sure any judge would be very interested to hear the plaintiff in a federal case is attempting to harass the defendant. Don't you think so?"

"This is not harassment, Lieutenant Flynn. But what you're doing right now is intimidation."

"Says who? I haven't threatened you. I've told you what I will do legally: I'll contact her attorney and I'll urge her to take out a restraining and no-contact order on you. You don't come back into this murder room. Period. If you need to serve papers, hire somebody. But you don't come back. Are we clear on that point?"

Goldman looked into Andy's eyes. They were cold and deadly. "Very," he croaked.

"Then get the hell out." Andy stepped away from him.

The man looked at Andy and decided leaving immediately would be an excellent idea.

Andy let Goldman get out of the room before he left Brenda's office. When he got back to his desk, he growled, "The world would be a better place if that douchebag got hit by a bus!"

"Amen," Provenza intoned.

* * *

><p><strong>July 2012<strong>

Brenda watched Andy knot his tie as he got ready for work.

"Did I do the right thing? Did I?"

"Gavin said you did, so you know you did, babe," he said, turning to her. "You resign, get a huge severance package, and Goldman drops the suit and agrees never to file anything on you in any court, anywhere, for any reason. And I told you that one of the universities would jump at the chance to have you as a professor. Now I don't have to worry about you. Not much trouble you can get into as a criminal justice and psychology professor at UCLA. And if you teach those kids how to be half as good at investigations as you are, then the bad guys in LA are in for a hell of a time when your students get hired. Plus, we still get to call you in as a 'consultant.' I'd say it worked out pretty well for everybody."

Brenda nodded. "I guess. At least I don't have to worry about Philip Stroh anymore." Stroh had finally attacked the wrong woman and she shot him to death.

"Nope. That dirtbag's shoveling coal in hell, right where he belongs." He went to sit next to her on the bed and put his arm around her shoulders.

"Andy, I didn't want this to happen. I love police work. You know I do. And maybe I didn't handle some of those cases strictly by the book, but those people aren't on the street anymore! Doesn't that mean _anything_?"

He put his cheek on the top of her head. "It means everything to the victims' families. That little rat turd Goldman can say whatever the hell he wants to. And sure, the accused have rights. But so did the victims. They had the right to live their lives without some creep coming in and shooting them, or whatever. And these wastes of space have the right to a fair trial. You didn't deny them that right. If their stupid lawyers couldn't get them a better deal because you got them to confess, that's not your fault. Brenda, you never sent an innocent person to prison. You want to know if you did the right thing, then think about that. Every single case you closed while you were with Major Crimes, closed with a guilty, with no doubt. All these people you turned over to the D.A.? Guilty as sin."

"So the end justifies the means?"

"Not necessarily. But, has a single one of those idiots been released because of bad police work, or a confession you got illegally? Nope. They held up in front of a judge and jury. So you hold your head up, too. Because of you, a lot of really bad people got what they deserved, and their victims' families got justice. Can you do any better than that? I don't think so."

Brenda looked up at her husband and sighed. "Andy, you always know just what to say to me. I think the first time I saw you, I knew I was in trouble."

Andy chuckled and held her closer. "And then you got to know me and found out how much trouble I really am."

"I'm more, that's for sure. Way more. But the first time you touched my hand, I fell right past the point of rescue. It just took me a while to figure it out. I love you so much, Andy."

He kissed her in reply.


End file.
